Cibvavy of Congves^. 



4 Q (J \ 



L3ITED STATES OF AMEBICA. 




Christ. — " In his Death he is a Sacrifice, satisfying for our 
sins ; in the Resurrection, a Conqueror ; in the Ascension, a 
King; in the Intercession, a High Priest." 

Martin Luther. 




BOSTON : 
Henry A. Young & Company. 
1869. 



. E 3 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1869, by 

HENRY A. YOUNG & CO., 

n the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of 
Massachusetts. 



Stereotyped by C. J. Peters & Son, 
5 Washington St., Boston. 



PREFACE. 



The object of this little volume is to 
bring together some of the best thoughts 
of good men, and apply them to the 
comfort, instruction, and sanctifi cation 
of believers. At the cross is found all 
that the weary, the disconsolate, and the 
sinful need ; and, while waiting there, 
the hungry soul is fed, and the fainting 
heart is strengthened. 



Page 



I. — The Cross, the Tree of Life . . . n 

The Picture of Christ 12 

The Shadow of Christ 13 

The Promise of Christ 15 

The Realization of Christ .... 17 

Jesus the King. (Poetry.) . . . . 18 

II. — The Need of a Cross 23 

The Great Want 23 

The Avocations of Men .... 25 

The Universal Unrest 26 

The Common Confession .... 27 

The Want met in Christ .... 29 

One Question, Many Answers. (Poetry.) 31 

111. — The Saviour on the Cross .... 37 

A Competent Saviour . . . . • . 42 

A Willing Saviour 45 

A Just Saviour 48 

An Everlasting Saviour ..... 50 

Come Now. (Poetry.) 51 

Your Mission. (Poetry.) .... 52 



5 



CONTENTS. 



IV. — Looking to Christ out of the Depths . 57 

Out of the Depths of Sin .... 57 
Out of the Depths of Sorrow ... 60 
Out of the Depths of Doubt . . . . 61 
Out of the Depths of Danger ... 64 

I can Wait. (Poetry.) 67 

A Mighty Fortress is our God. (Poetry.) . 69 

V. — The Penitent at the Cross ... 73 

The Penitent's Plea. (Poetry.) ... 73 
Calvary a Blaze of Love .... 75 
Calvary a Motive to Penitence ... 78 

VI. — The Guilty at the Cross .... 85 

The Cleansing Blood 86 

Saved by Grace 90 

Strength Given. (Poetry ) .... 94 
Weariness and Rest. (Poetry.) ... 95 

VII. — The Doubting at the Cross ... 99 
Sunlight through the Clouds . . . . 99 

Faith a Life 101 

Comfort for the Doubting. (Poetry.) . . 106 

Conquering Faith 108 

Intercession. (Poetry.) . . . . in 

Doubt Dispelled 113 

I am Christ's (Poetry.) . . . . 117 

Trusting better than Trying . . . . 119 

God knows it all. (Poetry.) . . . . 123 

VIII. — The Mourner at the Cross . . . i?o 

Lean Hard. (Poetry.) .... 130 

Mary in Tears 131 

In the Dark. (Poetry.) . . . . 134 

The Sympathy of Christ .... 135 

The Seen and the Unseen. (Poetry.) . . 140 

Jesus wept 143 



CONTENTS. 7 

Looking off unto Jesus. (Poetry.) . . 145 

Rest, weary Soul. (Poetry.) .... 146 

Christ in Providence . . . . . 147 

Bearing the Cross. (Poetry.) . . . 150 

Sin's Curse and Cure. (Poetry.) . . . 152 

IX. — Woman at the Cross 157 

The Cross Sanctified to Mothers . . . 157 

Woman's Indebtedness to Chrisc . . . 164 

Trust and Aspiration. (Poetry.) . . . 168 

The Happy Feast at Bethany ... 169 

X. — Childhood at the Cross .... 175 

Coming to Jesus 176 

The Believing Heart. (Poetry.) . . . 179 

Jesus and the Children 180 

The Vision of Christ. (Poetry.) ... 183 

The Child- Angel 185 

Jesus passeth by. (Poetry.). . . . 188 

At the Cross. (Poetry.) .... 190 

XI. — The Dying at the Cross .... 195 

The Shadow of Dying. (Poetry ) . . 196 

The Happiness of a Glorified Spirit . . 197 

There are no Tears in Heaven. (Poetry.) . 199 

Presence of Christ 201 

Going Home. (Poetry.) . . . . 203 

It is 1 told me I must die. (Poetry.) . . 205 

The Day breaketh 207 

Not Now. (Poetry.) 210 

The Cross and Heaven .... 212 

My All in All. (Poetry.) .... 215 

My Knowledge. (Poetry.) . . . . 217 

Death Conquered 218 

Things Growing Clear. (Poetry.) . . 221 

The Blessed State . . . . . . 223 




" Oh ! what a sight to be up in heaven, in that fair orchard of 
the trees of Paradise, and to see and smell and touch and kiss 
the fair field-flower, and that evergreen Tree of Life ! " 

** I look not to win a way to my home without wounds and 
blood. Christ hath so handsomely fitted for my shoulders this 
rough tree of the cross, as that it hurteth me nowise." 

"Love, love, — I mean Christ's love, — is the hottest coal 
that ever I felt. Oh ! but the smoke of it is hot : cast all the 
salt sea on it, it will flame. Hell cannot quench it : many, 
many waters will not quench love. Christ is turned over to his 
poor prisoner, in a mass and globe of fire. I wonder that he 
should waste so much love on such a waster as I am ; but he is 
no waster, but abundant in mercy. There are infinite supplies 
in his love, that the saints will never attain to unfold." 

" Great men are dry and cold in doing for me. The tinkling 
of chains for Christ affrighteth them." 

" Fasten your hold on Christ. Having him, though my cross 
were as heavy as ten mountains of iron, when he putteth his 
sweet shoulder under me and it, my cross is but a feather." — 
Garden of Spices. 




£{p Cross, % %xn at fife. 



In the midst of yonder wilderness, over- 
run with all manner of weeds and poisonous 
plants, there lies a humble patch of dry, 
bare ground. From the midst of the dry, 
barren ground, where nothing ever grew 
before, there rises up a young tree, tall, and 
fair to look upon. Higher and higher it 
grows, until its shadow falls upon the tops 
of the loftiest trees around it ; higher and 
higher, until all the trees in the wilderness 
are but weeds when compared with it. 

Now turn to the reality. Christ is that 
tree of God. In his birth he grew out of 
ground that was barren. In his infancy he 
was that " tender plant " of which Isaiah 



12 THE CROSS, THE TREE OF LIFE. 

prophesied. In his childhood his shadow 
fell upon heads that were gray with years 
and experience. And in his manhood the 
mightiest in the world were but weeds under 
his branches. As a man, he grew in stature 
and wisdom and favor and glory, until there 
was none such upon the face of the earth ; 
until he stood alone as the great tree of life 
in the midst of the perishing ; until he bid 
fair to stretch forth his branches to the utter- 
most ends of the world. 

Look back to the green tree. How beau- 
tiful it is ! It has no crooked boughs or 
twisted branches. There are no worm-eaten 
or withered leaves : every leaf is as fresh as 
when first unfolded from the bud. There 
are no weather-beaten, time-stained flowers : 
every flower is perfect. There are no bitter 
or rotten fruits : all its fruits are ripe and 
uninjured. From the lowest root to the 
highest leaf, it is without a fault. 

Behold in this some faint picture of Jesus. 
His birth was as pure as the creation of an 
angel. His childhood was as spotless as 
sunshine. His thoughts were as clear as the 



THE CROSS, THE TREE OF LIFE, 1 3 



river of God. His heart was a well of love. 
His soul was a great deep of light. His life 
was unstained by the shadow of evil. He 
was the wonder of devils. He was the ad- 
miration of angels. He was the joy of God. 
He was heaven on earth. 

Turn again to the green tree. Mark its 
goodness. It casts a cool shadow at noon- 
tide, where the weary hide from the heat of 
day. Men pluck its leaves, and lay them on 
the sores of the sick and wounded, and they 
bring the balm of ease and the strength of 
healing. Its flowers shed down sweetness 
on the air. Its fruit is the daily bread of a 
multitude. The storms that bow and break 
and trample down the trees of the forest, 
only shower from its bending branches 
leaves and fruit and fragrance upon the 
world beneath. 

Behold in this the shadow of Jesus ! He 
was the refuge of the repentant. He was 
the rest of the weary. He was the home of 
the outcast. He was the bread of the hun- 
gry. He was the health of the diseased. 
Did the blind ever leave him sightless, or 



14 THE CROSS, THE TREE OF LIFE. 



the hungry empty, or the dumb silent ? 
Was he not more than the Pool of Siloam to 
helpless sufferers, and than the waters of 
Jordan to leprous Naamans? Was he not 
better than the balm of Gilead to broken 
hearts, and than the oil of spikenard to 
wounded spirits? Was he not the grave 
in which men buried their sorrows; the 
water of oblivion with which they cleansed 
away their dark memories ; the bath of blood 
in which they washed white their sin-stained 
spirits ? When storms of trial and tempta- 
tion swept across him, what did they shake 
down but leaves of healing, and fruits of 
life, and fragrance of love and of heaven? 
What was he but the tree of life transplanted 
for a time from the everlasting Eden ? 

Look back once more at the green tree. 
Mark its promise ! Leave that tree un- 
touched, and what will it become ? Will it 
not reach up to heaven, and spread till it 
overshadows the world ? Whom will it leave 
without a shelter ? What diseases will it 
not cure ? What hunger will it not satisfy ? 
Will it not grow into a universal blessing ? 



THE CROSS, THE TREE OF LIFE. 15 

Behold in this the promise of Jesus ! Had 
he dwelt upon earth until now, what would 
he not have done for mankind ! If in three 
years he healed such crowds of diseased 
persons, what multitudes would he have 
cured in eighteen centuries ! If he fed five 
thousand and seven thousand at a meal, 
what thousands of thousands would he have 
fed since ! Who would have been left hun- 
gry, or who naked ? If he freely forgave the 
sins of penitent publicans, and praying 
thieves, and weeping harlots, and cast out 
none who came to him, what myriads would 
have swollen the train of his disciples since ! 
Oh ! what would the world have been now ! 
Oh (when we think of it) the glory of that 
green tree of God ! 

Wonderful, wonderful Jesus ! how can we 
now turn from the brightness of thy glory 
to the gloom of thy sorrow !. Oh ! who shall 
tell the tale of destruction ? The axe and 
the flame from beneath, and the glittering 
arrows from above, stripped and rent and 
levelled all thy glory. Thou wast slain, and 
buried off the face of all the earth I 



1 6 THE CROSS, THE TREE OF LIFE. 

Come, all you who are careless about your 
own salvation ; come, all you who are not 
in earnest about the salvation of others, — 
come hither, and tremble at Christ's sorrows. 
They are the blackest prophecies of future 
sorrow to the careless and unconverted, that 
were ever written by the finger of God upon 
the page of history. Oh, woe, w T oe to the 
guilty in the day of vengeance ! See him, 
the innocent Lamb of God, the pure, the 
lovely, the heavenly Lamb of God, — see 
him (and all for the sin of others) led, led 
by man and God, to the slaughter ! See 
him, the humble, loving, devoted Jesus, the 
dear, the only, the everlasting Son of God ! 
■ — see him (and all for sin, and sin alone) 
trodden down and crushed by the multitude, 
bruised, and forsaken by his Father, and then 
scourged and stripped and crucified ! Mark 
the blood ! — my soul sickens, my brain reels 
at the sight — mark the blood streaming from 
his open wounds ! See the mingled tears 
and blood, the clotted dust and gore, the 
thorns, ' the look of love and sorrow, the 
iron entering into his soul ! Ah me ! My 



THE CROSS, THE TREE OF LIFE. I? 



God, my God ! Oh, hear the dying prayer ! 
O God ! that cry ! His heart is broken, 
pierced and broken : nought hangs upon 
the cross but a lifeless body : the sobbing 
soul, the breadth of love and sorrow, the 
overburdened spirit, hath through the fearful 
gloom gone to its God. 

Thus died in the presence of man and in 
the presence of God the holy Son of man 
and Son of God. Thus died, by the hand 
of man and the will of God, the faultless 
Son of man and Son of God. Thus died, 
for the good of man and the glory of God, 
the unstained Son of man and Son of God. 
Thus was the dreadful sword of Almighty 
vengeance justly reddened with the blood 
of innocence. Thus was the guiltless con- 
sumed as a sacrifice by the devouring flame 
of the wrath of God against the guilty. Thus 
was judgment executed. Thus was hell 
opened. Thus was justice satisfied. 

H. Grattan Guinness. 




2 



THE CROSS, THE TREE OF LIFE. 



"JESUS THE KING." 

Upon the hill of Calvary, 

Upon a cross, which stood 

Rocking with speechless agony, 

And bathed in streams of blood, 

A man was nailed; and o'er his head 

A shining scroll was hung, 

So that the mocking crowd could read 

On whom their taunts they flung. 

The writing said, 

" Jesus the King ! " 

Upon the hill of Calvary, 

From off the cross, which stood 

Still as the waves of Galilee 

Beneath the feet of God, 

Joseph and his sad company 

Took down the tortured form ; 

And through their tears, as o'er the sea 

The beacon lights the storm, 

The scroll they see, 

" Jesus the King." 

Upon the hill of Calvary 
The cross on Easter stood ; 
But on its brow the mystery 
Of morning's golden flood : 



THE CROSS, THE TREE OF LIFE. 19 



And from within the open grave 
The angels see the scroll, 
And, lo ! the resurrection's wave 
Across that name they roll, 

Which still can save, 

" Jesus the King ! " 

Earth is the hill of Calvary : 
A cross is raised each day 
Whereon mankind with mockery 
Their loving Saviour lay ; 
But evermore the angels sing 
That name, and o'er his head 
Will write it, till they bring 
His mandate to the dead 

To rise, and sing, 

"Jesus the King ! " 

Anon. 



^Jleeb of a (Sross. 




" Christ is the way ; and he will continue such to the most 
advanced disciples, who will feel his moral and spiritual superi- 
ority the more, the more closely they imitate him. The greater 
our spiritual sensibility, the fail er for us the revelation of his 
character, and the fuller for us the measure of his inspiration. 
We should believe that branch of the Church destined to wither, 
that severed its connection with the Vine ; and the sooner it 
withered the better ; for its fruit could be only ashes, and its 
seed barrenness." — Dr. Bellows. 

"Oh ! since from those mighty words, 'Verily, verily, I say 
unto you. wJiatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my 7iame, Jte 
will give it you? the veil has withdrawn itself from before me ; 
I stand before them in amazement, as before an opened sanctua- 
ry, and know scarcely how to bear myself for astonishment and 
rapture at the abundance of magnificent and blessed thoughts 
contained therein. I behold, as it were, a throne of God erected 
upon this saying. Gleaming lightnings shoot forth therefrom on 
all sides, only to illume to my view the Holy of Holies in the 
temple of Christianity. The most blessed articles of the New 
Testament stand there grouped around it in unveiled splendors, 
like sweet messengers of peace ; and in its centre appears the 
whole glory of the gospel, condensed into one wonder-teeming, 
majestically-refulgent, burning point." — Kruvi?nacher. 





22 



The great want of the human soul is a 
Saviour ; the imperative necessity of man is 
some one to bear his heavy burden, release 
him from the curse of sin, and emancipate 
him from the iron bondage of God's stern, 
relentless law. For six thousand years, the 
blinded, bewildered faculties of men have 
been groping in their stupidity among the 
altars, temples, schools, and systems of earth, 
to find some one to stand between the guilty 
race of Adam and the offended God of the 
universe ; some daysman, who could touch 
with the same hand, weeping, crushed hu- 
manity, and unsullied, unshaken divinity. 
There is a universal consciousness of wrong, 
unrest, and danger, an unceasing call for 
some higher good than man has yet attained; 

23 



24 THE NEED OF A CROSS. 

and the whole history of our race, the im- 
mense struggle of humanity, has been an 
effort, too often abortive, to reach that higher 
state, and secure that higher good. All men 
everywhere have the same unsettled and rest- 
less longings which nothing on earth can 
gratify. They are conscious of 

" An aching void 
The world can never fill." 

The number of really contented persons is 
very small, the circle of truly satisfied mor- 
tals is very limited, and the desire of which 
we speak is general if not universal. The 
young merchant says, " When I am settled 
in business, and have a good run of custom ; 
when I am proprietor of one of those marble 
warehouses that lift their proud fronts in 
yonder city, and my patrons come from all 
parts of the sunny South and the out-stretch- 
ing West ; when wealth rolls in upon me like 
a flood, and I can afford to live in a brown- 
stone palace in some noble avenue or on 
some aristocratic street, — I shall be perfect- 
ly satisfied, completely happy." He secures 



THE NEED OF A CROSS. 



25 



all this ; but he is not happy, he is not satis- 
fied, — no, no, far from it. 

The enterprising mechanic, with ideas less 
lofty than the other, says, " When I am set- 
tled in life, have a little home of my own, 
with a loving wife and dutiful children ; when 
my business is good, and work is plenty and 
well paid ; when I have a little laid up in the 
bank for a rainy day, — then I will bid fare- 
well to all anxiety, and enjoy life as well as if 
I was worth a million." But he reaches all 
that, yet he is not happy, and is not willing to 
rest there. His mind is as ill at ease as ever. 

Another has some other prospective good 
at which he aims, towards which he directs 
all his efforts, and which enlists all his ener- 
gies. When he gets that, he expects to be 
contented. He knows nothing beyond that, 
— no higher good, no mountain-peak of glory, 
no summit of ambition rising back of the 
object for which he strives to-day. But in 
time he secures that, and finds the same de- 
mon of unrest impelling him, the same crav- 
ings for a higher pinnacle, the same eager- 
ness for an object still distant. 



26 



THE NEED OF A CROSS. 



" Amidst our plenty, something still 
For horses, houses, pictures, painting, 
To thee, to me, to him, is wanting. 
That cruel something, unpossest, 
Corrodes and lessens all the rest : 
That something, if we could obtain, 
Would soon create a future pain.'* 

Men make no mistake when they suppose 
they need something to make them happy. 
Their aching hearts do not deceive them 
when they crave some unattained good, some 
bliss that can meet the higher wants, and 
satisfy the soul. They only mistake in the 
methods they take to meet these wants, and 
secure the desired good. The objects at 
which they are aiming never can do for them 
what they expect. They will surely be dis- 
appointed in the end, and die with the soul 
unfilled, its dreary waste still unsatisfied. It 
has been so, we know, with men in all ages 
of the world, and in every land beneath the 
sun. Only a few have ever reached the 
summit of contentment, or been supremely 
blest. 

Assuming, then, as a point needing no con- 
fession on your part, and no argument to 



THE NEED OF A CROSS. 27 



establish it on mine, that all unconverted 
men and women feel the great need of a 
soul, and are sensible of the insufficiency 
of human nature, we wish to show how 
the want can be met, the soul satisfied, and 
the sinner made supremely happy. It is an 
old story, — old as the cross. It has been 
told in every land, and repeated in every dia- 
lect for eighteen hundred years. It has been 
recited by poets and philosophers, by learned 
and eloquent men, and by the poor, ignorant, 
untutored children of the forest. It has been 
enunciated in royal proclamations, blazoned 
on the banners of imperial armies, shouted 
from the lips of expiring martyrs, and echoed 
by the most lofty and the most lowly of men. 
It has been preached in cathedrals, whis- 
pered in royal palaces, and sung in deep, 
lonely prisons. Yet the great world, with its 
eyes all bleared by sin, its ears all stopped 
with the music of earth, its heart petrified 
with fear, does not understand it. Men now 
are as little inclined to find peace in the right 
way as they were eighteen centuries ago. 
They are as eager now to draw from broken 



28 THE NEED OF A CROSS. 



cisterns as they were in the days of the proph- 
ets ; and there is as much unrest, though rest 
has come • as much discontent, though con- 
tent has walked the earth in god-like guise, 
— as there ever was before. Ah ! that is the 
way of man's poor heart. 

The history of the world, the experience of 
mankind, the declarations of God, all assure 
us that there can be found one only source 
of rest, one only place of peace and content- 
ment. What is that source of rest? Who 
can tell? When Nicodemus wanted rest; 
when his heart fluttered and ached \ when a 
pent-up storm raged in his soul, making ship- 
wreck of every hope that had found a harbor 
there, — what did he do ? Make broad his 
phylactery ? Lengthen out his prayers, or 
put into them a more burning rhetoric ? 
Double his gifts to the Hebrew Church, or 
go oftener to the Sanhedrim and sit among 
the rulers of the land? Oh. no! He found 
rest one day — no, one night — in a humble 
house in an obscure street in Jerusalem, 
while conversing with the Son of God. And 
so it has become true in all ages, that there 



THE NEED OF A CROSS. 29 

is rest for none who do not seek it in that 
same lowly street, at the feet of that same 
illustrious personage. Whatever the ills of 
a man's life, whatever the sorrows of his 
heart, whatever burden he may bear, or what- 
ever grief may consume him, he can find rest 
nowhere else. All the voices of the past, as 
they come sounding back from Bethlehem's 
plains and Judaea's hillsides ; every testimony 
wrought into the great life deposition from 
men who have sought rest, and found it not, 
who have pursued content, and been deluded 
and deceived • as well as from those who 
have entered the vestibule of eternity, and 
laid their cold, dead hands upon a blessed, 
meek, and living cross, and been forever 
satisfied, — all these voices shout to us, as 
we wander and perish, "Go to Jesus" The 
inspired word in which saints have found 
perfection, and martyrs have gathered conso- 
lation, which has been a fountain of life, love, 
and wisdom to prophets, priests, and kings, 
utters one single sound, "Goto Jesus." The 
angels, as they flit about on their missions of 
mercy, as they watch the surging, seething 



30 



THE NEED OF A CROSS. 



tides of human woe, boiling and foaming 
with bitterness and wrath, cry out, "Go to 
Jesus" The Spirit of God, the Holy Ghost, 
ever since the day of Pentecost, has been 
uttering one grand direction for all sinners. 
He has stood on the banks of the Jordan, 
the Euphrates, and the Tiber ; he has ap- 
peared on the shores of the Sea of Galilee, 
and in the mountains of Arabia, — every- 
where, where hearts are burdened, and souls 
diseased, holding up a cross, pointing to Cal- 
vary, and saying, — oh, how sweetly ! — "Go 
to Jesus." 

We have no other direction to give \ there 
is nowhere else for the sinner to go. What- 
ever sorrow may oppress your soul, whatever 
burden may rest upon your spirit, there is 
but one remedy, one relief. If you have been 
smitten bv death ; if in your home is a coffined 
tenant, and a dark, cold cloud of Providence 
has swept over you, concealing all light, 
obscuring the face of mercy, and leaving you 
nothing but a tomb, — then "Go to Jesus." 
If sin has settled on your spirit \ if you hear 
the angry denunciation of the law \ if wrath 



THE NEED OF A CROSS. 31 

thunders against you, and you are afraid of 
God, — then "Go to Jesus." If you have 
strayed like a child from home, like a sheep 
from the fold of the great Shepherd, and you 
hear the roar of the devouring wrath, and 
tremble lest there be no fountain to wash out 
sins like thine, no mercy for one so fallen, 
then "Go to Jesus." There is nowhere else 
you can go. Christ alone has the remedy for 
your disease, the balm for your sorrow, the 
pardon for your sins. In him, and nowhere 
else, can rest be found. 



ONE QUESTION, MANY ANSWERS. 
1. 

" What wouldst thou be ?" 
The question hath wakened wild thoughts in me ; 
And a thousand responses, like ghosts from 

their graves, 
Arise from my soul's unexplored deep caves, — 
The echoes of every varying mood 
Of a wayward spirit all unsubdued ; 



32 THE NEED OF A CROSS. 



But the voices which thrill through my inmost 
breast — 

They tell me of gladness, but not of rest. 

What wouldst thou be ? 
'Tis well that the answer is not for me. 

ii. 

" What wouldst thou be ? " 
An eagle soaring rejoicingly ; 
One who may rise on the lightning's wing, 
Till our wide, wide world seem a tiny thing ; 
Who may stand on the confines of boundless 
space, 

And the giant form of the universe trace, 
While its full, grand harmonies swell around, 
And grasp it all with a mind profound. 

Such would I be, 
Only stayed by infinity. 

in. 

u What wouldst thou be ? " 
A bright incarnation of melody ; 
One whose soul is a fairy lute, 
Waking such tones as bid all be mute, 
Breathing such notes as may silence woe, 
Pouring such strains as make joy o'erflow, 



THE NEED OF A CROSS. 



33 



Speaking in music the heart's deep emotion, 
Soothing and sweet as the shell of the ocean. 

Such would I be, 
Like a fountain of music, all pure and free. 

IV. 

" What wouldst thou be ? " 
A wondrous magnet to all I see ; 
A spirit whose power may touch and bind 
With unconscious influence every mind ; 
Whose presence brings, like some fabled wand, 
The love which a monarch may not command ; 
As the spring awakens from cold repose 
The bloomless brier, the sweet wild rose. 

Such would I be, 
With the love of all to encircle me ! 

v. 

" What wouldst thou be ? " 
A blessing to each one surrounding me, 
A chalice of dew to the weary heart, 
A sunbeam of joy bidding sorrow depart, 
To the storm-tossed vessel a beacon light, 
A nightingale song in the darkest night, 
A beckoning hand to a far-off goal, 
An angel of love to each friendless soul. 

Such would I be. 
Oh that such happiness were for me ! 

3 



34 



THE NEED OF A CROSS, 



VI. 

" What wouldst thou be ? " 
With these alone were no rest for me. 
I would be my Saviour's loving child, 
With a heart set free from its passions wild, 
Rejoicing in him and his own sweet ways ; 
An echo of heaven's unceasing praise ; 
A mirror here of his light and love, 
And a polished gem in his crown above. 

Such would I be, 
Thine, O Saviour, and one with thee ! 

Anon. 




"The Law and the Gospel are two keys. The Law is the key 
that shutteth up all men under condemnation, and the Gospel 
is the key which opens the door and lets them out." — Tyndall. 

"If prayer in the name of Jesus is the ship that is to 
convey us to the opposite shore, where all that is desirable is to 
be obtained, it is evident that there mast be among us a lack of 
people who know how to sail with this bark. The condition in 
which we are proves it ; otherwise, things would have a different 
appearance in the midst of us. Heaven would not remain so 
little known and enjoyed. Spiritual barrenness would soon van- 
ish. The Church would flourish like the lily, and gift upon gift 
would be showered down upon us from on high. Our weakness 
judges and condemns us. We know not how to make use of 
the key which has been given to us ; and what Jesus said to his 
disciples may also be applied to ourselves, ' Hitherto have ye 
asked nothing in my name? " — Krummacher. 




Cjp Sabraur 011 % Cress* 



The soul waiting at the cross sees Christ 
hanging upon it. The sweet voices of angels 
cry, "He is a Saviour;" and the waiting 
soul turns longingly and lovingly to him with 
solemn inquiry. 

Is he a competent Saviour ? — When a 
man is charged with crime, beaten down by 
menaces, exposed to condemnation, he seeks 
an advocate to manage his defence, and plead 
his cause in the trial. The question he asks 
is, "Is this advocate competent?" If the 
case is important, if the crime charged on 
him involves great consequences, and, if 
proved, will be followed with terrible punish- 
ment, he is not willing to trust the case in 

37 



38 THE SAVIOUR ON THE CROSS. 



the hands of a novice, who, by his ignorance 
of law, or his dulness in other respects, will 
fail to set the strong points in the defence 
clearly before the jury. He desires to know 
how long the advocate has been practising 
at the bar, what important cases he has 
had, what success has attended his legal 
efforts, and what is thought of his powers as 
a pleader. He wishes to know who has in- 
trusted this advocate with important cases, 
and with what skill he managed them. If 
he is told that the counsel recommended has 
had but few important cases, and those were 
lost by him, that men who understand the 
importance of legal skill never employ him, 
that his reputation as a pleader is poor, it is 
at once decided. He will not retain him : it 
would be madness for him to do so. To se- 
cure such an advocate would be to throw his 
case away. But if he is told that the law- 
yer has been engaged in several important 
state or criminal trials, has uniformly man- 
aged them with great skill, has been pitted 
against the most eloquent men who ever ad- 
dressed a jury, and never lost any case com- 



THE SAVIOUR ON THE CROSS. 39 

mitted to him, it is a different thing alto- 
gether. " This is the advocate for me," he 
says ; and he at once retains him for the trial. 

If a man is sick, and wants a physician ; 
if his case is desperate, almost hopeless ; if 
he needs to be treated with the utmost medi- 
cal skill, — he inquires whether the medical 
man recommended is skilful in the healing 
art, and has a reputation for success in his 
vocation. If he finds that the man kills 
more than he cures, as some do \ if a person 
who employs him once never dares do so 
again ; if he is never invited to consult with 
other members of die medical fraternity, — 
then the sick man rejects his services as 
worthless. But if he finds that the physician 
has always been successful, has lost but few 
patients, has a high reputation as a man of 
skill and learning, he employs him, puts him- 
self into his hands, and says, " Sir, do the 
best you can for me : I have entire confidence 
in your skill." 

Now, if a man wants a Saviour for his soul, 
it is perfectly proper that he should be soli- 
citous as to the competency of the one pre- 



40 THE SAVIOUR ON THE CROSS. 



sented. And, in relation to the competency 
of Christ to save, there can be no mistake. 
Man has committed a dreadful crime ; he has 
violated God's holy law ; he has sinned 
against infinite light, infinite love, and infi- 
nite purity. It is a multitudinous crime made 
up of an infinite variety of offences. It is a 
life-long crime, begotten in his ancestors, 
developed in himself, and bequeathed to his 
children. The trial will soon take place, the 
judge will soon be on his throne, the indict- 
ment will be read, the witnesses heard, the 
verdict given, the sentence pronounced. It 
is of vast importance that the sinners advo- 
cate be competent, able to cope with all the 
points of law ; that he understands the usages 
of the court, and is able to plead with suc- 
cess. Christ is recommended as such an 
advocate, — recommended by God himself. 
Is he competent ? Can he manage the case 
well ? Look at his antecedents ! He has 
been in practice six thousand years ; he has 
had millions of clients ; he has undertaken 
the most difficult cases ever committed to 
any advocate, and he never lost one. No 



THE SAVIOUR ON THE CROSS. 4* 

person who trusted in him has ever been 
disappointed. He was the counsel of Saul 
of Tarsus, that old blood-red persecutor ; and 
he cleared him. He was the advocate em- 
ployed by the Galilean thief, who wanted his 
work done quickly and strong. He under- 
took the cases of Col. Gardner, John New- 
ton, and Richard Baxter, — hard cases as all 
must admit; but he succeeded with them. 
Indeed, men who have had him as an advo- 
cate have seldom felt fear. So confident 
have they been in his success, that, though 
charged with crime that might make hell it- 
self turn pale, they have gone to the trial 
with the step of the conqueror, shouting in 
joyful anticipation, " There is therefore now 
no condemn ation." No man need fear trust- 
ing to Christ for salvation. His competency 
is known and attested by infallible proofs, and 
his universal success recommends him to the 
confidence and love of all. 

The nature of man is also diseased ; man 
is sick as well as criminal. The Scriptures 
represent him as under the influence of a 
malady that is preying on him, soul and 



42 THE SA VIOUR ON THE CROSS. 



body. A physician is recommended, — rec- 
ommended by thousands who have tried him, 
and by God the Father of all. What are his 
antecedents ? Has he ever lost a case ? No. 
Has he ever had an instance of malpractice ? 
No, Has he ever failed to give health, rest, 
ease, comfort, and blessing? No, no, never 
failed ! Oh ! how covered within and with- 
out was the soul of poor Mary of Magdala 1 
How many diseases seemed to have taken 
possession of her, until, like seven devils, 
they rioted upon her flesh, and consumed 
her vitals ! But the Great Physician at 
length undertook her case, applied his rem- 
edies, and at once she was healed. A 
thousand Marys vile as her of Magdala have 
been washed in that same fountain of blood, 
cleansed of all their sins, and saved by this 
Physician. Your soul, my reader, is dis- 
eased, — fearfully, ruinously diseased. The 
fever, plague, palsy, and madness, all com- 
bined, are at work on your moral nature ; and 
they will destroy you, unless, in your emer- 
gency, you go to the Great Physician of souls. 
A competent Saviour ! Such is the 



THE SAVIOUR ON THE CROSS. 43 

Christ presented to all lost men. His blood 
cleanseth from all sins, however deep, dark, 
and damning. Whoever will, let him come 
and wash in the full, deep fountain of mercy, 
■ — a fountain as deep as the pit of our degra- 
dation. Thousands have washed there, and 
been cleansed and healed of all maladies. 
Nothing is more apparent than this, — Christ 
is a competent Saviour ! able to save to the 
uttermost all that come unto God by him. 
Though your nature were black as midnight, 
and your heart a perfect volcano of deprav- 
ity, yet the blood of Christ could cleanse it, 
extinguish its fire, and make it a palace fit 
for God to dwell in. 

" If all the sin that men have done 

In will, in word, in thought, in deed, 
Since worlds were made, and time begun, 

Were laid on one poor sinner's head, 
The blood of Jesus Christ alone 
Could for this mass of sin atone, 
And sweep it all away." 

This is a Saviour, indeed, worthy of our 
acceptance, whatever our case, or however 
desperate our condition. 



44 THE SAVIOUR ON THE CROSS. 

Is he a willing Saviour ? — Our best 
advocates at the bar are able to command 
large fees. Whoever employs them is ex- 
pected to pay large sums of money for their 
services. This is right and proper: intel- 
lect and genius should always claim their 
reward. Hence, many poor men who might 
have desired the service of Burke and Fox, 
Choate and Webster, have been obliged to 
go to trial with very different advocates. 
" They will not plead for me," the man has 
said. "I have no money, I cannot pay 
them ; and it would be useless to go to 
them." Very true ! Burke and Fox, Choate 
and Webster, were not accustomed to do busi- 
ness gratuitously. A percentage was on their 
brain, and they seldom taxed that brain with- 
out a lien on the purse of the client. 

And when we urge a sinner to go to Christ, 
the great Advocate of the universe, it is not 
surprising that he should turn on us, and ask, 
"Is he willing to undertake my case, and 
plead my cause ? " With deep regret the 
condemned soul says, " I have nothing to 
pay such illustrious counsel, no fee to retain 



THE SAVIOUR ON THE CROSS. 45 



or remunerate. It must be a gratuity on his 
part ; and, knowing that, surely he will not 
undertake for me." 

But I tell you he will. If you were rich 
and able to pay, he would tell you to go and 
get some advocate who wanted your money, 
and who was willing to work for your fee. 
Because you are poor and wretched and 
miserable and blind and naked, he will 
undertake your case and plead for you. If 
you were, as you wish you were, able to 
pay him, he would have nothing to do with 
you. He delights to act for the poor, the 
destitute, and the afflicted. He is the poor 
man's friend and advocate. His language 
is, " Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to 
the waters, and he that hath no money ; come 
ye, buy wine and milk without money and 
without price." 

Great physicians generally want great pay. 
If a man has great skill as an oculist or a 
surgeon, or in the treatment of fever or in- 
sanity, he wants to be paid for it. This is 
right and proper ; and no one should complain 
of it. But multitudes of poor people are 



46 THE SAVIOUR ON THE CROSS. 



afraid to go to the best physicians : they 
think the charges will be so high that they 
cannot pay them. The sick man, when rec- 
ommended to some eminent practitioner, 
says, " He will not come : he knows me, and 
I am largely in debt to him already. I have 
nothing to pay ; and while the rich, the hon- 
ored, the learned, ask his attentions, he will 
not bestow them on me. Besides, he knows 
my case will be long, desperate, and tedious : 
he will not undertake it." He argues rea- 
sonably, and with good sense : he must put 
up with a less eminent physician. 

And so some sore, sick, sad sinner, when 
pointed to Christ, will say, " He is the great 
Physician : he has a multitude of cases on 
hand, calls in every direction ; kings, proph- 
ets, martyrs, are all waiting for him. I am 
poor, and have nothing to pay : he will not 
waste his time on me." 

But I tell you he will. He delights to help 
just such as you. Did Paul have any thing 
to pay, when he fell, a poor, stricken sinner, 
to the earth? No. Did Mary Magdalene 
have any thing to pay, when seven devils were 



THE SAVIOUR ON THE CROSS. 47 



eating her up ? No. What then ? Christ is 
the Physician of the poor. If you offer him 
money, he will say, " Your money perish with 
you ! " He serves those who depend on him, 
who feel their want and poverty, and who are 
sad and heavy with grief. 

The willingness of Christ to save is demon- 
strated in all time. He came into the world 
to seek and save that which was lost. Every 
wail of his infancy, every sweat-drop of 
Gethsemane, every groan of Calvary, attests 
the willingness, ay, the unutterable desire, 
of Christ to save. 

Is he a just Saviour ? — • Many a legal 
man has endeavored to save his client by 
defeating the ends of the law, and perverting 
justice. He deceives the jurors, or ? by some 
fraudulent transaction, accomplishes his pur- 
pose. He knows his client is a miserable 
criminal, deserving of punishment, and yet 
he strives to establish his innocence. He 
evades, quibbles, picks flaws in the indict- 
ment, resorts to technicalities. The accused 
goes out legally clear, but condemned by 
public opinion and by his own conscience. 



43 THE SAVIOUR ON THE CROSS. 

But Christ does not do that thing. He 
makes no effort to bribe the judge, deceive 
the jurors, or evade the law. He satisfies 
the law by his own sufferings. He washes 
out not only the accusation, but sin itself: 
he does not attempt to prove the innocence 
of his client, but he expiates his crime : he 
not only pardons, but he justifies the offend- 
er. He clears him from his guilt and shame, 
and sets him free as the lark that soars and 
sings. Ah, yes! he is a just Saviour, — just 
to the criminal who has sinned ; just to the 
law which condemns him ; just to God who 
is offended ; just to himself who gave his life 
a ransom for the lost. 

Such is the Saviour presented to you, — 
to you, weary, heavy-laden, full of sin, sor- 
row-stricken, and anxious about your fate. 
To you who have nothing to pay for salvation, 
who have no merit, no virtue, to return for 
such a boon, — to you I present such a Sa- 
viour, perfectly competent, perfectly willing, 
perfectly just Kings, come down from your 
thrones, and cast your crowns at his feet! 
Paupers, come from your dens, and find in 



THE SAVIOUR ON THE CROSS, 49 



him riches and righteousness ! Slaves, ap- 
proach, and let him dissolve your chains ! 
Criminals, see ! he holds a pardon, bought 
with blood, in his hands ! 

Dying sinner, will you go to him ? With 
all your wants and woes on you still, will you 
go7 Sinner of weary feet and heavy heart, 
will you go? What gracious enjoyment is 
held out for you ! What sweet and tender 
invitations are given you ! What hallowed 
hopes are held out before you ! Surely saith 
the Scriptures, " The Spirit and the bride say, 
Come. And let him that heareth say, Come. 
And let him that is athirst come. And whoso- 
ever will, let him come and take of the waters 
of life freely." Could you have a more rea- 
sonable and gracious invitation than this ? 
Could you ask for a broader or wider one ? 
" God so loved the world, that he gave his 
only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth 
in him should not perish, but have eternal 
life." That one word, " whosoever," covers 
you, whoever you may be, and whatever may 
be your state. 

Do you hesitate and hold back ? I call 



50 THE SAVIOUR ON THE CROSS. 



the thief on the cross to tell you how fully 
and freely he was forgiven by God, how 
graciously and gladly he was received by 
Christ. Are you still afraid ? I invite Saul 
of Tarsus to relate to you the story of his 
conversion, and set before you the way of 
life. Do you still feel that your sins are too 
great for forgiveness ? I call upon Mary of 
Magdala to repeat how seven devils were 
cast out of her ; how she, a harlot and a de- 
graded woman, was washed in blood. I ask 
her to pronounce on your listening ear, in the 
full, deep emphasis of her own salvation, her 
experience, that you may hear her confes- 
sion : — 

" Love I much, I'm much forgiven : 
I'm a miracle of grace." 

Soul immortal, do you know this Saviour ? 
Methinks I hear some one reply, " No, I do 
not know him." How strange ! He came 
from heaven for you, laid aside his glorious 
robes for you ; and yet you do not know him / 
For you he was scourged, mocked, insulted, 
and tried ; and yet you do not know hh?t / He 
sweat blood for you in sad Gethsemane, was 



THE SAVIOUR ON THE CROSS. 51 



raised for you to the cross of Calvary ; and 
yet you do not know him / How strange ! 
For you his blood did once atone, and now 
his mercy keeps you out of hell ; and yet you 
do not know him / Poor man ! You do not 
know the loveliest and best being in the uni- 
verse, the just God and Saviour of a lost 
world. Poor man ! 



♦ 



COME NOW. 

Now is the time : 
This Sabbath's setting sun 
May be the signal that thy race is run. 

See Jesus, waiting at the heavenly gate. 
Come now : to-morrow it may be too late. 

Now is the time : 
Ere night's dark curtain drop, 
Thy Maker may command thy breath to stop. 
See Jesus, waiting at the heavenly gate. 
Come now : to-morrow it may be too late. 



52 THE SAVIOUR ON THE CROSS. 



Now is the time : 
The Spirit's gentle voice 
Knocks at thy heart and pleads, believe, rejoice. 
See Jesus, waiting at the heavenly gate. 
Come now : to-morrow it may be too late. 

Now is the time : 
Beyond the narrow grave 
Repentance has no longer power to save. 
See Jesus, waiting at the heavenly gate. 
Come now : to-morrow it may be too late. 



Now is the time : 
Accept and thou shalt see 
The brightness of his glorious Majesty. 

See Jesus, waiting at the heavenly gate. 
Come now : to-morrow it may be too late. 

Anon. 



YOUR MISSION. 



Hark ! the voice of Jesus crying, 
" Who will go and work to-day ? 

Fields are white, and harvests waiting : 
Who will bear the sheaves away ? " 



THE SAVIOUR ON THE CROSS. 



Loud and long the Master calleth ; 

Rich reward he offers free : 
Who will answer, gladly saying, 

" Here am I : send me, send me " ? 

If you cannot cross the ocean, 

And the heathen lands explore, 
You can find the heathen nearer, 

You can help them at your door. 
If you cannot give your thousands, 

You can give the widow's mite ; 
And the least you give for Jesus 

Will be precious in his sight. 

If you cannot speak like angels, 

If you cannot preach like Paul, 
You can tell the love of Jesus, 

You can say he died for all. 
If you cannot rouse the wicked 

With the judgment's dread alarms, 
You can lead the little children 

To the Saviour's waiting arms. 

Let none hear you idly saying, 
"There is nothing I can do," 

While the souls of men are dying, 
And the Master calls for you. 



54 THE SAVIOUR ON THE CROSS. 



Take the task he gives you gladly ; 

Let your work your pleasure be ; 
Answer quickly when he calleth, 

" Here am I : send me, send me." 

Anon. 



^looking fa ©hrtef. 




"I am no scholar, sir," said an old man to me in a Hamp- 
shire workhouse : "I have taught myself the last fifteen years, 
and now I can read a good bit of the Bible ; but I can't make 
out all the big words, you know, sir. Ah ! sir, that word ' be- 
lieve,' that is a great word with me : it is every thing to me ; 
and, as far as I can make out, there is no other way of getting to 
Jesus. He says, 4 Come unto me ; ' and, thank God, I am very 
happy in coming to him, by believing that he died for me, and 
that ' he washed all my sins away.' " 

" In the end of the world, Christ was revealed to put away 
sin. He did not come into the world to palliate it merely, or to 
cover it up ; but he came to put it away. Observe, he not only 
came to put away some of the attributes of sin, such as the filth 
of it, the guilt of it, the penalty of it, the degradation of it : he 
came to put away sin itself ; for sin, you see, is the fountain of 
all the mischief. He did not come to empty out the streams, 
but to clear away the fatal source of the pollution. He appeared 
to put away sin itself, — sin in its essence and being. Do not 
forget that he did take away the filth of sin, the guilt of sin, the 
punishment of sin. the power of sin, the dominion of sin, and 
that one day he will kill in us the very being and existence of 
sin ; but do recollect that he aimed his stroke at sin itself. My 
Master seemed to say, as the king of Syria did of old, ' Fight 
neither with small nor great, save only with the king.' He 
aimed his shafts at the monster's head, smote his vital parts, 
and laid him low. He put hell itself to flight, and captivity was 
led captive. What a glorious word, — our Lord put away 
sin I" — C. H. Spurgeon. 



56 



iaa}&BQ io Christ smt d % §*pt|ys. 



There are depths of despair where silence 
reigns, and whence no cry ascends to God ; 
but there are depths out of which the soul 
cries to God, and the Lord delivers. 

Out of the depths cried the publican to 
God, when be could see no other bridge than 
mercy between a righteous God and himself, 
whose name was sinner. Out of the depths 
cried the prodigal, when he resolved to return 
to his father, against whom he had sinned. 
Without any excuse to offer, without any 
palliation of his guilt, he could only say, " I 
have sinned, and am no more worthy to be 
called thy son." Out of the depths cried the 
woman, who was a sinner, though she had 

57 



58 LOOKING TO CHRIST. 



no words, but only tears, — the depths of 
helplessness and anguish, — the hopelessness 
and sadness of a bruised reed. Out of the 
depths cried Saul, when his wisdom was 
suddenly shown to him to be folly, his 
righteousness fighting against God, his 
strength and boast his weakness and shame. 
Out of the depths cried the thief on the 
cross, when he beheld his sinful life behind 
him, death and eternity before him, and, 
without one plea, asked the holy and inno- 
cent Sufferer to remember him. These cried 
out of the depths of unforgiven sin. When 
the waters overwhelmed them, they had 
learned to distrust the sand of the surface ; 
they had digged deep, till they came to 
depths of hopelessness ; and, deeper than 
the depth of self-despair, they found the out- 
stretched arms of divine mercy, to receive 
them into everlasting safety and peace. 

Out of the depths cried David, after his 
backsliding and grievous sin. He had been 
silent before God, and, though outwardly 
praying to him and singing his praises, he 
had not enjoyed real communion with his 



LOOKING TO CHRIST. 



59 



God and Father; and he confessed, and 
appealed to God's mercy. " Have mercy 
upon me according to thy loving-kindness; 
according to the multitude of thy tender 
mercies, blot out my transgressions. Noth- 
ing else have I to look to but thy mercy." 
Out of the depths cried Peter, when the look 
of Jesus smote the rocky heart, and he went 
out and wept bitterly. They cried out of the 
depths of the burdened conscience of back- 
sliders ; and the Lord restored their souls, and 
led them in the paths of righteousness for his 
name's sake. 

Out of the depths of indwelling sin cried 
Paul, when he felt, that, though he delighted 
in the law of God with the inner man, there 
was another law striving within his members. 
" O wretched man that I am ! who shall 
deliver me from the body of this death ? " 
In the subtle fowler's snare, in the heat of 
the world's turmoil, in the tumult of sinful 
thoughts, unhallowed desires, and worldly 
habits, the believer feels weak and helpless ; 
and out of the depths he cries unto God, and 
the Lord delivers him, and takes his feet out 



6o LOOKING TO CHRIST. 



of the net, and gives him the victory over all 
that hate him, yea, prepares a table before 
him in the presence of his enemies. 

Out of the depths of sufferings, brought 
about by their own sin and disobedience, the 
saints cry unto God. So prayed Jacob to be 
delivered from the hand of Esau ; and when 
disobedient Jonah was in the belly of the 
whale, the depth closed him round about, the 
weeds were wrapped about his head ; when 
his soul fainted within him, he remembered 
the Lord, and cried unto him, and the Lord 
heard the voice of his supplication. The 
children of Israel are brought low for their 
iniquity : nevertheless, he regarded their 
afflictions when he heard their cry. (Psalm 
cvi. 43, 44-) 

Out of the depths of priestly sorrow and 
sympathy God's people cry to him. Thus 
did Jeremiah and Daniel humble themselves, 
on account of their guilty nation, before God, 
and confess their sin, and supplicate mercy. 
They were in the depths of sorrow and grief. 
Thus did Paul, the servant of the Lord, weep 
for the ungodly : he felt great heaviness and 



LOOKING TO CHRIST. 6 1 

continual sorrow in his heart on account of 
his brethren, his kinsmen according to the 
flesh ; and the supplications which ascend 
out of the depths of Christ-like zeal for 
God's glory and compassion towards sinners 
bring down the answer of the Most High in 
power and blessing. 

While we are in this valley of our pilgrim- 
age, compassed about with sorrow, tempta- 
tion, and a godless world, and have within 
us sin and unbelief and selfishness, contend- 
ing not merely with flesh and blood, we shall 
have to cry out of the depths. In heaven 
the prayers will be changed into songs of 
deliverance ; but even now the child of 
God knows not merely ex profundis, but a 
hymn of joy and gladness, for he is " in 
Christ." 

He was once against Christ, crucifying 
him like the Jews of old, persecuting him 
like Saul of Tarsus ; he was once without 
Christ, ignoring his offers and invitations, 
destitute of his righteousness and strength ; 
he was once only near Christ, admiring his 
holiness, his life, his death, his love, wish- 



62 



LOOKING TO CHRIST. 



ing to please and serve him, trying to obey 
and trust him ; but now he is in Christ. 

This union is of God (i Cor. i. 30), it is 
of Christ (Eph. v. 25), it is of the Spirit 
(1 Cor. vi. 17). 

This union is necessary and essential to 
salvation. Know ye not that ye are in Christ 
Jesus, except ye be reprobates ? Except a 
man be born again, he cannot see the king- 
dom of God. But what is meant by being 
born again ? If any man be in Christ, he is 
a new creature. 

This union is mysterious, and yet can be 
compared to many things which all under- 
stand. Jesus calls himself the Bread of 
Life. He gives us his body and blood to 
be the strength and life of our souls. We 
feed on him. The Father sends the manna ; 
the Son gives us his body to eat and his 
blood to drink ; the Spirit enables us to re- 
ceive and to partake by faith. 

Jesus calls himself the Vine, and us the 
branches. His life is ours ; we are dead and 
barren without him. If we abide in him, it 
is he who lives in us, and brings forth fruit 



LOOKING TO CHRIST. 



63 



through us. The Father is the Husband- 
man : his is the glory. The Spirit grafts us 
into the Vine : faith is the connection be- 
tween us and Christ. Christ is the Head, 
the Church the body. There is perfect union 
and sympathy between the Head and the 
members. Christ is the life, the wisdom, the 
guide of his people. 

Christ is the foundation laid by the Father : 
we the building, resting and depending upon 
him. 

Christ is the Bridegroom, the Husband of 
the church. He loved us, and gave him- 
self for us, that we may love him, yield to 
him all our affections, lean on him at all 
times, and find our joy in his presence and 
fellowship. 

These comparisons are to help us in under- 
standing and believing that there is a real 
and intimate union between Christ and his 
people. * 

See, then, O believer ! thy safety. Thou 
art accepted in the Beloved. If Christ is 
safe, thou art safe. Why was Christ cruci- 
fied? He was delivered for our offences. 



64 LOOKING TO CHRIST, 



Why was Christ raised and glorified? Be- 
cause of our justification. Christ ascended ; 
Christ sitteth now at the right hand of God ; 
and, if Christ is our head, if we are in him, 
we are safe. 

See your danger. Only one danger exists ; 
that is to leave Christ. As long as you abide 
in him as your only hope and confidence, 
as the supreme object of your love and grati- 
tude, as your Guide and Example and 
Sovereign, you are safe : his grace is suf- 
ficient for you. His strength is made 
perfect in your weakness. To lose sight of 
him, to be unfaithful to him in your heart, 
unmindful of him in your life, — this is the 
only real evil. 

See your happiness. " As the Father hath 
loved me, so have I loved you : continue ye 
in my love. These things have I spoken 
unto you, that my joy might remain in you, 
and that your joy might be full." If we are 
in Christ, what infinite love of the Father is 
resting upon us ! One with the Beloved of 
God, how near and dear are we to the heart 
of the heavenly Father ! What a contrast is 



LOOKING TO CHRIST. 



65 



here ! O prodigal, clothed with the best robe, 
remember the depths, when thou didst sojourn 
in the far country ! If in Christ, fellow-heirs 
with him, what a glorious future is awaiting 
us ! Christ gives us not merely heaven, but a 
right to heaven,- — his own right, as it were: 
" I will grant to him to sit with me in my 
throne ! " 

See here what constitutes your misery and 
your weakness : " Without me ye can do 
nothing." When we do not abide in Christ, 
and do not let his word abide in us, our 
peace becomes shallow, our joy becomes 
hollow, our strength unreal, feverish, and 
effervescent. Only by decreasing in self-de- 
pendence and confidence in the flesh, and 
by allowing Christ to increase, to become 
more indispensable to us, and claiming more 
his strength and the supplies of his grace, 
can our souls prosper and glorify God. 

Learn here to seek the Spirit. He joins 
us to Christ. It is he who keeps us in 
Christ, even to the end. 

Learn here the importance of obedience. 
Ponder Christ's saying, " If ye keep my 



66 



LOOKING TO CHRIST. 



commandments, ye shall abide in my love, 
even as I have kept my Father's command- 
ments, and abide in his love." Oh, what 
earnest, heart-stirring, heart-constraining 
preaching of the law have we here ! Obedi- 
ence is the way of abiding in Christ's love. 
It is when we obey that we rest in the 
embrace of our Saviour. 

If not in Christ, then, instead of bread, we 
feed on poison ; instead of a sure foundation, 
we build on sand ; instead of being living 
branches, we are withered, ready to be cast 
out and burnt ; instead of having life in him 
who is the resurrection and life, we are in 
Adam, children of wrath and disobedience, 
and heirs of death ; instead of the marriage- 
supper, we must look forward to never-ending 
separation from the Source of all light and 
purity and blessedness. If in Christ, we 
wait for a glorious harvest, for the perfect 
manifestation of the sons of God, for the 
inheritance which God has promised to 
Christ, and all who by the Spirit are joined 
to him. 

Once in Christ, in Christ forever ! While 



LOOKING TO CHRIST. 67 

Peter denied him, Christ remembered him. 
Before Peter fell, Christ had prayed for his 
disciples. In the depths, the everlasting arms 
are beneath thee. Will not his goodness 
lead thee to repentance, to tender, loving, 
faithful, zealous obedience ? 

Anon. 



I CAN WAIT. 

Though the ills of life oppress, 
And the waves of grief o'erflow, 

God will all my wrongs redress : 
This my soul doth surely know. 

I can wait. 

Though my ships went down at sea, 
With their wealth of gems and gold, 

Filling all my soul with grief, 
And a sorrow all untold, 

1 can wait. 

Though the bread with lavish hand 
Which I cast on every side, 

Now to me in direst want 

Comes not o'er the treacherous tide, 
I can wait. 



LOOKING TO CHRIST. 



Though the good I measured out 

With my lavish, willing hand 
Comes not to relieve my need, 

While I worn and waiting stand, 
I can wait. 

Though I laid my idol down, 
Bound and banded in the tomb, 

Taking from my life its charm, 

From my cheek its healthful bloom, 
I can wait. 

Though I've freed while I am bound, 
Though my works have come to nought, 

Though where others jewels found 
Dross has come where I have sought, 
I can wait. 

He has promised in his Word, 
What we do not know while here, 

Over in that happy land 

To our souls shall be made clear : 
I can wait. 

He has promised that those bound 
Here on earth shall find release 

When their happy souls in heaven 
Know the joy of perfect peace : 
I can wait. 



LOOKING TO CHRIST, 



And my dead will rise again 
From the confines of the tomb, 

Bringing back my wasted life 
With a new and fresher bloom . 

I can wait. 

Though the ills of life oppress, 
And the waves of grief o'erflow, 

God will all my wrongs redress : 
This my soul doth surely know. 

I can wait. 

Anon. 



"A MIGHTY FORTRESS IS OUR 
GOD." 

A mighty fortress is our God, 

A bulwark never-failing ; 
Our Helper he amid the flood 

Of mortal ills prevailing. 
For still our ancient foe 
Doth seek to work us woe ; 
His craft and power are great, 
And, armed with cruel hate, 

On earth is not his equal. 

Did we in our own strength confide, 
Our striving would be losing ; 



LOOKIXG TO CHRIST. 



Were not the right man on our side, 
The man of God's own choosing. 

Dost ask who that may be? 

Christ Jesus, it is he. 

Lord Sabaoth his name, 

From age to age the same, 
And he must win the battle. 

And though this world, with devils filled, 

Should threaten to undo us, 
We will not fear, for God hath willed 

His truth to triumph through us. 
The Prince of Darkness grim — 
We tremble not for him : 
His rage we can endure. 
For lo ! his doom is sure : 

One little word shall fell him. 

That word above all earthly powers, 

No thanks to them, abideth ; 
The Spirit and the gifts are ours, 

Through him who with us sideth. 
Let good and kindred go, 

This mortal life also : 
The body they may kill, 
God's truth abideth still, 

His kingdom is for ever. 

Anon. 



" I see Christ : and I see, through Christ, God. Christ must 
become all in all." —Bunsen. 

"The excellent Mr. Flavel, when minister at Dartmouth, 
preached from the words, ' If any man love not the Lord Jesus 
Christ, let him be Anathema, Maran-atha ; ' that is, accursed. 
The discourse was unusually solemn, particularly the explana- 
tion of the curse. At the conclusion, when Mr. Flavel was 
about to pronounce the blessing, he paused and said, 'How 
shall I bless this whole assembly, when every person in it who 
loves not the Lord Jesus Christ is Anathema, Maran-atha?' 
The solemnity of this address deeply affected the audience. In 
the congregation, there was a lad named Luke Short, about 
fifteen years old, and a native of Dartmouth. Soon after, he 
went to sea, and sailed to America, where he passed the rest of 
his life. He lived till he was ' a sinner a hundred years old,' 
and ready to die 'accursed.' One day his memory fixed on 
Mr. FlavePs sermon. The earnestness of the minister, the 
truths spoken, the effect on the people, all came fresh to his 
mind. He felt that he had not loved the Lord Jesus; he 
feared the dreadful curse ; he was deeply convinced of sin ; and 
he was brought to the blood of sprinkling." 

" Christ, — those who live Christ, who live in love, the life of 
Christ, these are his. Those who live not the life of Christ 
are not his, let them be called by what name they may, let their 
confession of faith be what it may." — Bunsen. 



Jesus Christ never cast away any one 
who came to him. All he wants to see is 
a tear of penitential sorrow on the cheek, or 
hear a penitential sigh from the breast. 

THE PENITENT'S PLEA. 

Saviour, I come for rest ! 
To thy call of love replying, 
On thy word of grace relying, 
All weary and opprest ; 
My sin and grief and care 
Now to thy feet I bring, to leave them there. 

I wandered long and far, 

In the groves of folly playing, 
On the wastes of error straying, 

With no guard or guiding star. 



73 



74 THE PENITENT A T THE CROSS, 



Blindly I wandered on, 

Seeking around for rest, and finding none. 

All became cold and drear : 
The wayside blossoms faded ; 
Dark clouds the sunshine shaded ; 
No sound of hope or cheer. 
Gloom was on all the past, 
And a dark gulf before, which must be reached 
at last. 

But then thy voice I heard. 

Oh how free the invitation ! 

Oh how glorious the salvation 
Revealed in every word ! 
I heard as captives hear 

The trumpet-tones which tell of a Deliverer near. 

I heard, and I obey ! 

Thy precious blood has bought me, 
Thy wondrous love has sought me, 
And led me here to-day, — 
Here to thy mercy's throne, 
Pleading thy power to save, thy merits to atone. 

My Saviour, thou wilt hear ! 

Simply thy love believing, 

Freely thy grace receiving, 
Why should I doubt or fear ? 



THE PENITENT A T THE CROSS. 75 



Unchanged thy words remain, 
That not one sinful soul should seek thy face 
in vain. 

Whom can I seek but thee ? 

Thou hast borne the load so weary, 
Thou hast trod the path so dreary, 
To set the captives free. 
No farther let me roam, 

But close to thee abide through all my journey 
home. 

Home with thyself at last ! 
In the clear light of heaven 
To see all sin forgiven, 
AH grief and danger past, 
Forever safe and blest ! 
Lord, I believe, I love, I enter into rest ! 

Anon. 



CALVARY A BLAZE OF LOVE. 

When we look around on God's works, and 
see the laws by which they are regulated, the 
adaptation of part to part, the traces of 
design and exquisite workmanship every- 
where visible, and how a presiding Spirit 



7 6 



THE PENITENT AT THE CROSS. 



overrules the endless train of events, bring- 
ing light out of darkness, order out of con- 
fusion, good out of evil, we may well exclaim, 
Herein is wisdom ! When we survey the 
vast masses that roll in space, giving light 
and heat in their appointed places at the 
appointed seasons, the mighty influences at 
work in nature, the thunders and lightnings, 
storms and winds, before which human 
power sinks into insignificance, and how 
these are ruled, as easily as the intention 
guides the hand, by that voice which says to 
the roaring sea, " Hitherto shalt thou come 
and no farther, and here shall thy proud 
waves be stayed," we may well exclaim, 
Herein is power ! When we see the happy 
tendencies of things, — how the same heaven 
bends over all, how all the creatures are 
made to minister to man's enjoyment, and 
how the wants of every living thing are 
satisfied by the exuberance of each return- 
ing year, and all this in the face of aggra- 
vated and unnumbered sins, we may well 
exclaim, Herein is goodness ! When we 
travel in thought to that dark land where 



THE PENITENT AT THE CROSS. 77 

hope and opportunity are forever at an end, 
where death reigns in its most appalling 
forms, and nought is heard but the cries of 
tormented outcasts ; and when we think, 
that, throughout ages innumerable as the 
drops of rain, there will be no abatement of 
their sorrow and no dawn of hope on their 
despair, — we may well exclaim, Herein is 
justice ! When we contemplate that heaven 
where God sits in the midst of a rejoicing 
family, — "a multitude which none can 
number, out of all tribes and kindreds and 
peoples and tongues and nations," — where 
all is light and love, and into whose pure 
transparencies " there shall in no wise enter 
any thing that defileth, or that worketh 
abomination, or that loveth or maketh a 
lie, but only they whose names are written 
in the Lamb's book of life," — we may well 
exclaim, Herein is holiness ! But it is when 
we turn to Calvary, and look at the Sufferer 
who there poured out his soul unto the 
death, amid tears and agonies and cries, 
and think that there the Son of God, him- 
self the King eternal, immortal, and in- 



73 THE PENITENT AT THE CROSS. 



visible, became obedient unto death, even 
the death of the cross, so that all the per- 
fections of the Godhead were at once dis- 
played and gloriously vindicated, that mercy 
and truth met together, righteousness and 
peace kissed each other, — it is then we reach 
the climax of the song, and say, " Herein is 
love ! not that we loved God, but that he 
loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitia- 
tion for our sins." Calvary is one blaze of 

lOVe. Anon. 



CALVARY A MOTIVE TO PENITENCE. 

There have been developments in the 
histories of years of self-sacrificing affection, 
which has clung to the loved object amid 
hazard and suffering, and which has been 
ready to offer up life even in its behalf. 
Orestes and Pylades, Damon and Pythias, 
David and Jonathan, — what lovely episodes 
their histories give us amid a history of 
selfishness and sin ! Men have canonized 
them, partly because such instances are rare, 



THE PENITENT AT THE CROSS. 79 

and partly because they are like a dim hope 
of redemption looming from the ruins of the 
fall. We have it on inspired authority, 
indeed, "Greater love hath no man than 
this," — this is the highest point which man 
can compass, this is the culminating point 
of that affection which man can by possi- 
bility attain, the apex of his loftiest pyramid 
goes no higher than this, — " Greater love hath 
no man than this, that a man lay down his 
life for his friend ; but God commendeth his 
love toward us, in that, while we were yet 
sinners, Christ died for us." A brother has 
sometimes made notable efforts to retrieve 
a brother's fortunes, or to blanch his sullied 
honor; but there is a Friend that sticketh 
closer than a brother. A father has bared 
his breast to shield his offspring from 
danger, and a mother would gladly die for 
the offspring of her womb ; but a father's 
affection may fail in its strength, and yet 
more rarely a mother's in its tenderness. 

" I saw an aged woman bowed 
'Mid weariness and care : 
Time wrote in sorrow on her brow, 
And 'mid her frosted hair. 



So THE PENITENT AT THE CROSS. 



What was it that like sunbeam clear 

O'er her wan features ran, 
As, pressing towards her deafened ear, 

I named her absent son ? 

What was it ? Ask a mother's breast, 

Through which a fountain flows, 
Perennial, fathomless, and blest, 

By winter never froze. 

What was it ? Ask the King of kings, 

Who hath decreed above, 
What change should mark all earthly things 

Except a mother's love ! " 

And " can a woman forget her sucking 
child, that she should not have compassion 
on the son of her womb ? Yea : they may 
forget, yet will I not forget thee." O Jesus 
of Nazareth ! who can declare thee ? " Here- 
in is love, not that we loved God, but that he 
loved us, and sent his Son to be a propitia- 
tion for our sins." Think of that love, — 
love which desertion could not abate ; love 
which ingratitude could not abate, which 
treachery could not abate ; love which death 
could not destroy ; love, which, for creatures 
hateful and hating one another, stooped to 
incarnation, and suffered want, and em- 
braced death, and shrank not even from 



THE PENITENT AT THE CROSS. 81 

the loathsomeness and from the corruption 
of burial ; and then, with brimming eye, and 
heart that is full, and wonder " Why such 
love to me ? " you will indeed be ungrateful 
if you are not stirred by it to an energy of 
consecration and endeavor which may well 
seem intemperate zeal to the cool reckoners 
with worldly wisdom. Then take the other 
side of the argument, — take it as referring to 
your love to Christ, which the sense of his 
love has enkindled in the soul. The 
deepest affection in the believing heart will 
always be the love of Jesus. The love of 
home, the love of friends, the love of letters, 
the love of rest, the love of travel, and all 
else, are contracted by the side of this 
master passion. " A little deeper," said one 
of the veterans of the first Napoleon's old 
guard, when they were probing in his bosom 
for a bullet that had mortally wounded him, 
and he thought they were getting somewhere 
in the region of the heart, — "a little deeper, 
and you will find the emperor." Engraven 
on the Christian's heart, deeper than all 
other love of home or friends, with an in- 

6 



82 THE PENITENT A T THE CROSS. 

effaceable impression that nothing can 
erase, you find the loved name of Jesus. 
Oh ! let this affection impel us, and who 
shall measure our diligence or repress our 
zeal ? Love is not bound by rule ; there is 
no law that can bind it ; it is never below 
the precept : it is always up to the precept ; 
but it always has a margin of its own. It 
does not calculate, with mathematical ex- 
actitude, with how little of obedience it can 
escape penalty and secure recompense. Like 
its Master, it gives in princely style ; it is 
exuberant in its manifestations : there is 
always enough and to spare. 

W. M. PUNSHON. 



" This is the command of God, That ye believe on Jesus 
Christ whom he has sent. 



* Oh ! believe the promise true, 
God to you his Son has given.' 



" Trust now in his precious blood, you are saved, and you shall 
see his face in heaven. Despair of being saved by feeling, since 
perfect feelings are impossible ; and a perfect knowledge of our 
own guilt is quite beyond our reach. Come, then, to Christ, 
hard-hearted as thou art, and take him to be the Saviour of thy 
hard heart. Come, poor, stony conscience, poor, icy soul, come as 
thou art : he will warm thee, he will melt thee." 



" Never forget the three Whats : First, What from ? Secondly, 
What by? and, thirdly, What to? What from? — Believers are 
redeemed from hell and destruction. What by ? — By the precious 
blood of Christ. What to? — To an inheritance incorruptible, 
undenled, and that fadeth not away." — Old Author. 



C. H. Spurgeon. 




A Christian minister visiting a pauper 
establishment, not long ago, in answer to a 
question asked her, heard a dying woman 
respond, with a solemn burst of praise, " Is 
he not a precious Saviour, so great and good, 
and willing to save us all poor sinners ! " 
She was lying on a hard bed in the dreary 
infirmary-ward of a workhouse ; and the 
power of faith and love to create a happiness 
independent of circumstances came out 
with almost startling force in her answer to 
the inquiry, " You know him, then, and love 
him ? " — " Yes, I do know him and love him. 
His presence makes a heaven of this 
room. If you heaped up my bed with gold 

8 5 



86 THE GUILTY AT THE CROSS. 

and silver," she added ; " if you could give me 
the queen's carriage and horses, and her 
palace and her garden, and all her beautiful 
flowers, and health and strength to enjoy it 
all, — I would not take them, if they would 
hinder me from going home to my Saviour. 
They talk of the pains of dying ; what will 
they be to me ? They will but hurry me to 
heaven and to Jesus." 



THE CLEANSING BLOOD. 

A visitor among the poor was one day 
climbing the broken staircase which led to a 
garret in one of the worst parts of London, 
when his attention was arrested by a man of 
peculiarly ferocious and repulsive counte- 
nance, who stood upon the landing-place, 
leaning with folded arms against the wall. 
There was something about the man's 
appearance which made the visitor shudder; 
and his first impulse was to go back. He 
made an effort, however, to get into conversa- 
tion with him, and told him that he came 



THE GUILTY AT THE CROSS. 87 

there with the desire to do him good, and to 
see him happy, and that the book he held in 
his hand contained the secret of all happi- 
ness. The ruffian shook him off as if he 
had been a viper, and bade him begone with 
his nonsense, or he would kick him down 
stairs. While the visitor was endeavoring, 
with gentleness and patience, to argue the 
point with him, he was startled by hearing a 
feeble voice, which appeared to come from be- 
hind one of the broken doors that opened up- 
on the landing, saying, " Does your book tell 
of the blood which cleanseth from all sin ? " 
For the moment, the visitor was too absorbed 
in the case of the hardened sinner before him 
to answer the inquiry ; and it was repeated in 
urgent and thrilling tones, " Tell me, oh ! 
tell me, does your book tell of the blood 
which cleanseth from all sin ? " 

The visitor pushed open the door, and en- 
tered the room. It was a wretched place, 
wholly destitute of furniture, except a three- 
legged stool, and a bundle of straw in a cor- 
ner, upon which were stretched the wasted 
limbs of an aged woman. When the visitor 



88 THE GUILTY AT THE CROSS. 

entered, she raised herself upon one elbow, 
fixed her eyes eagerly upon him, and re- 
peated her former question, " Does your book 
tell of the blood which cleanseth from 
all sin ? " He sat down upon the stool 
beside her, and inquired, " My poor 
friend, what do you want to know of the 
blood that cleanseth from all sin ? " There 
was something fearful in the energy of her 
voice and manner as she replied, " What 
do I want to know of it ? Man, I am dying : 
I am going to stand naked before God. I 
have been a wicked woman, — a very wick- 
ed woman, — all my life. I shall have to an- 
swer for every thing I have done • " and she 
groaned bitterly as the thought of a lifetime's 
iniquity seemed to cross her soul. " But 
once," — she continued, — " once, years ago, I 
came by the door of a church ; and I went in, 
I don't know what for. I was soon out again ; 
but one word I heard there I have never for- 
got. It was something about blood which 
cleanseth from all sin. Oh, if I could hear 
of it now ! Tell me, tell me, if there is any 
thing about that blood in your book ! " The 



THE GUILTY AT THE CROSS. 89 

visitor answered by opening his Bible, and 
reading the first chapter of the first Epistle of 
St. John. The poor creature seemed to de- 
vour the words ; and, when he paused, she 
exclaimed, " Read more, read more ! " He 
read the second chapter. A slight noise 
made him look round : the savage ruffian had 
followed him into his mother's room ; and, 
though his face was partly turned away, the 
visitor could perceive tears rolling down his 
cheeks. The visitor read the third, fourth, and 
fifth chapters before he could get his poor 
listener to consent that he should stop ; and 
then she would not let him go till he promised 
to come again next day. He never, from 
that time, missed a day reading to her until 
she died, six weeks afterwards ; and very 
blessed was it to see how, almost from the 
first, she seemed to find peace by believing in 
Jesus. Every day the son followed the visitor 
into his mother's room, and listened in silence, 
but not in indifference. On the day of her 
funeral, he beckoned him to one side, as 
they were filling up the grave, and said, " Sir, 
I have been thinking that there is nothing I 



90 THE GUILTY AT THE CROSS. 



should so much like as to spend the rest of 
my life in telling others of the blood which 
cleanseth from all sin." 

Thus the great truth of free pardon through 
the blood of Christ sinks into the soul and 
saves it. Thus grasped, when all else is 
gone, it has power to sustain the drowning 
spirit, and lift it up above the floods that are 
going over it. Thus it breaks the heart of 
stone, which nothing else could touch, and 
turns the abandoned persecutor into the zeal- 
ous teacher of Christianity. 

London Record. 



SAVED BY GRACE. 

Here is the way we are pardoned. When 
we stand condemned by God's holy and just 
law, and loaded with the guilt of ten thousand 
sins charged against us by conscience, and by 
accusing devils, and by God's record, and 
dead, forever dead, then Jesus comes for- 
ward, examines the handwriting, confesses it 
to be in accordance with the ordinances of 
justice ; all its indictments to be against us, 



THE GUILTY AT THE CROSS. 91 

contrary to us, and fatal to us ; all our works, 
sacrifices, pleas, and excuses to be worthless ; 
our damnation to be just : but he takes the 
dark scroll " out of the way," or, as the 
original Greek more vividly expresses it, 
"from the midst," out of the circle of throng- 
ing and conflicting friends and enemies before 
the bar ; and, lifting it over their heads, 
" There ! " says he, " it is satisfied : I have 
already paid the ransom for this poor lost 
soul ; it is cancelled forever." And then he 
hangs it upon the nails which fastened high 
the accusation written, " This is Jesus, the 
King of the Jews " (not " king," or " a king," 
but "theYmg ; " that is, the divinely appointed 
suffering Messiah, prophesied in the Jewish 
Scriptures, and given first to the Jews, who 
should be pierced and wounded for our trans- 
gressions, — the Son of God bearing the sins 
of man) ; or he hangs it upon the nails from 
which dropped his own atoning blood, that 
thus trickled down over the parchment, and 
watches one by one the items crimsoned over 
so as to be illegible, and the black writing 
blotted out so as to be never seen again. Oh 



92 THE GUILTY AT THE CROSS. 



the shriek of joy that shall burst from our 
pallid and trembling lips ! the gladness that 
shall kindle over all the face that was hag- 
gard and wet with terror ! the strength that 
shall return to the death-stricken frame ! 
"You that were dead hath he quickened." 

But is the joy and the triumph to be ours 
alone ? No ! The triumphant Redeemer 
looks round at the grim, black, disappointed 
crew of hell that had thirsted like wolves for 
our blood. There they stand, defeated, their 
prey snatched from their very jaws. They 
knew that all the sins, many and great as they 
were, of that soul, had been more than paid 
for on Calvary ; and many a superadded 
railing accusation had they made about the 
restored one and about his glorious Lord. 
What shall be their doom ? The law is 
plain. " If the witness be a false witness, 
and hath testified falsely against his brother, 
then shall ye do to him as he had thought 
to have done unto his brother." And again, 
" A false witness shall perish." " Thine eye 
shall not pity; but life shall go for life, eye for 
eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for 



THE GUILTY AT THE CROSS. 93 



foot," " burning for burning, wound for 
wound, stripe for stripe." And then, as male- 
factors were stripped and bound, and dragged 
away to prison and scourging and torture, 
and finally to death ; so Christ " spoils," or 
literally " strips," the mightiest and the proud- 
est of these principalities, as once, through 
their servants, " they stripped him," and 
" mocked him," and "spat upon him," and 
" smote him upon the head," and " scourged 
him," and " set up over his head his accu- 
sation written, THIS IS JESUS, THE 
KING OF THE JEWS." Then they 
triumphed : now he triumphs. How ? 
" Triumphing in it." In what ? Why, in that 
very " cross." " His accusation" was that 
He was "Jesus," our Saviour, and our " King." 
He nailed our guilt with his body on that 
cross. That cross now bears the same 
triumphant title, then made his shame, now 
made his glory. Then they cried, " He 
saved others, himself he cannot save ;" "if 
thou be the Son of God, come down from 
the cross." Now he " makes a show of them 
openly," convinces them of the mistake so 



94 THE GUILTY AT THE CROSS. 

terrible to themselves, proves his infinite 
dignity even in that hour of shame, proves 
the success of that eternal purpose to make 
peace between God and man, and the depth 
and height of that love which won him to 
sacrifice himself for us. 

W. Speer (China). 



STRENGTH GIVEN. 

Though the heavens above be dark, 
Though the waves beat o'er the bark, 
Though the thunders loudly roar, 
Though the mist be on the shore, 
He, thy Master, walks before thee, 
Angel forms are bending o'er thee. 
Haste to prayer, and bow the knee : 
"As thy day, thy strength shall be." 

Are there thoughts thou wouldst not name ? 
Doth trembling seize thy shaking frame ? 
Fearful one, hast thou forgot 
What must be the Christian's lot ? 
Forget'st thou One whose boundless power 
Can sustain in peril's hour ? 
One whose hand is stretched to thee ? 
" As thy day, thy strength shall be." 



THE GUILTY AT THE CROSS, 95 



Doth the way to heaven appear 

Steep and narrow, full of fear, 

Through the perils of the way, 

Secret foes or battle's fray ? 

These can all be put to flight 

In armor of the sons of light. 

Hear him : " Place thy trust in me ; " 

And, " As thy day, thy strength shall be." 

Are thy thoughts on things below, 
Fading like the sunset glow ? 
Deceiving hopes, or pleasures fled, 
The vanished, or the early dead ? 
Earthly love, or worthless toys, 
What are these to heavenly joys ? 
In God's heaven thy treasure see : 
"As thy day, thy strength shall be." 

Dr. Bonar. 



WEARINESS AND REST. 

Saviour, I come to thee, 
A weary child, with pain and care oppressed. 
Oh, let me lean this aching, burdened heart 

Upon thy loving breast ! 

The way is very dark : 
I cannot see it, Lord, through these my fears. 
Take thou my hand, and draw me up to thee, 

Through all the lonely years. 



96 THE GUILTY AT THE CROSS. 

I have no strength, dear Lord. 
Oh, let me lie where I can touch thy feet, 
And gaze up from the dust into thine eyes, 

That are so true and sweet. 

And come, oh come to me ! 
And raise me to thine arms, and teach me there 
The strange, deep secrets of thy love, and bend 

To listen to my prayer. 

Speak to me soft and low. 
My spirit yearneth for one little word 
To cheer the still, sad silence of my life, — 

One word from thee, my Lord. 

Speak to me, O my God ! 
There are sweet voices falling on my ear, 
Long known, long loved ; but in my inmost soul 

Their tones I cannot hear. 

But thou wilt speak to me; 
And, as the river falls into the sea 
And sinks to sleep, so this my wearied heart 

Shall find its rest in thee. 

Episcopalian. 



^©he ^aubfirr<3 af fhe (Strops* 





A theological student once called on Dr. Archibald Alexan- 
der, in great distress of mind, doubting whether he had been con- 
verted. The doctor encouraged him to open his mind. After 
he was through, the aged disciple, laying his hand on his head, 
said, " My young brother, you know what repentance is, — what 
faith in Christ is. You think you once repented, and once 
believed. Now, don't fight your doubts : go all over it again. 
Repent now, believe in Christ now : that's the way to have a con- 
sciousness of acceptance with God. I have to do both very 
often. Go to your room, and give yourself to Christ this moment, 
and let doubts go. If you have not been his disciple, be one 
now. Don't fight the Devil on his own ground. Choose the 
ground of Christ's righteousness and atonement, and then fight 
him." 

" Little things and little people have often brought great 
things to pass. The large world in which we exist is made up of 
little particles as small as the sand on the seashore. The vast sea 
is composed of small drops of water. The little busy bees, how 
much honey they gather ! Do not be discouraged because 
you are little. A little star shines brightly in the sky on a dark 
night, and may be the means of saving many a poor sailor 
from shipwreck ; and a little Christian may do a great deal of 
good if he or she will try. There is nothing like trying." 



Dr. Chalmers. 




There are few souls that are not more or 
less oppressed with doubts. They steal un- 
bidden into the mind, and fall down like beads 
of ice upon the heart. But before the cross 
they die. Waiting there, the soul feels the 
gracious spirit of faith filling it with a divine 
life. Unbelief has no longer any room there, 
and the sunlight of calm and holy trust 
spreads over the whole life. 



SUNLIGHT THROUGH THE CLOUDS. 

Blest Saviour ! if I'm thine, 

Scatter my doubts away, 
And on this darkened soul of mine 

Pour beams of heavenly day. 

99 



100 THE DOUBTING AT THE CROSS. 



Give me some taste of heaven 

While in this vale of tears ; 
Some opening gleams and transports even 

Of beatific years ; 

Some splendors of thy throne 

To gild this dreary land ; 
Some visions of the golden crown 

Prepared at thy right hand ; 

Some nectar .drops of joy, 

Which angels cannot taste, 
As I lie down at last to die 

Upon my Saviour's breast. 

Some streams of heavenly light 
To illumine death's dark vale ; 

While sainted friends, all clothed in white, 
And beckoning seraphs, hail. 

Then will I lay my crown 

At my Redeemer's feet, 
And raise the loudest, sweetest song 

In all that world of light. 

Victorious paeans break 

From all the ransomed throng ; 

And Gabriel leans upon his harp, 
Astonished at the song. 

Rev. Dorus Clarke. 



THE DOUBTING AT THE CROSS. 101 



FAITH A LIFE. 

How unspeakably important it is for all to 
learn this simple lesson, that a man cannot 
retain the Christian character with the one 
first act of trust by which he is justified ! 
He must perpetuate that act. His heart 
must continually repeat the language of its 
first faith, — 

" Lord, I am lost, 
But Christ hath died." 

If a man falls overboard at sea, and a life- 
buoy is thrown to him, he is not saved if he 
grasps that life-buoy for a moment or two, and 
then lets it float away. No ! he must grasp 
it firmly. He must rest upon it, hold on 
to it amid the roaring waters until his ship- 
mates come to his relief. It is so with Christ. 
Sinking into hell, I cry to God for help. He 
gives me Jesus, his crucified Son. " Trust in 
him," he says. My sinking spirit reaches 
after that Saviour. It grasps him, and feels 
safe. So far well. But if I let him go, and 
say, " I am deceived : Christ is not my 



102 THE DOUBTING AT THE CROSS. 

Saviour," I begin to sink again. The waters 
gather round my soul. I must, then, hold on. 
Every moment I must believe ; and then I 
shall retain my peace, and live what is ap- 
propriately called a " life of faith" 

There is no truth in the Scriptures more 
earnestly taught than the necessity of a con- 
stant and ever-living faith. Paul calls a 
Christian life, " the fight of faith" Where- 
fore? Because this ever-repeated trust in 
Christ is the only defence a child of God has 
against the weapons of his destroyer. It is 
for the same reason called "the shield of 
faith" Backsliding is called " casting away 
of faith or confidence" while to " keep the 
faith " is accounted the highest success of a 
believer. In short, every act of obedience, 
every acceptable duty, every sin subdued, 
every conquest won, every onward step taken, 
and every blessing gained in answer to pray- 
er, the Scriptures ascribe to faith. I must 
believe always, instantly. 

The real question, therefore, for the young 
Christian to ask, is, " Do I now exercise a 
real faith in Christ ? " If to this he can 



THE DOUBTING AT THE CROSS. 103 



answer, u Yes," he can well afford to let the 
question of the reality of his past experience 
alone. It may be interesting to know when 
one first realized the blessings of the gospel. 
It is not, however, important. The question 
is, " Do I now believe ? " 

I have been at sea. A sail has hove in 
sight. The cry of " Sail, ho ! " from some 
vigilant watcher has brought all on board to 
the taffrail. A short gaze at the horizon has 
revealed the dim form of a ship to every eye. 
All have seen something — they call it a 
ship — many miles distant. Very soon, some 
have declared her class, whether ship or brig, 
merchant vessel or man-of-war. But to others 
she remained longer undefined ; and it would 
be long before every eye could discern what 
had been visible to others at almost their first 
glance. Differing in opinion as to her class, 
they yet all agreed in the fact, — they saw a 
ship. 

It is thus with believers in Christ. They 
see him with different degrees of faith. To 
one, his form is full and distinct. Like Ste- 
phen, he cries, " I see the heavens opened, 



104 THE DOUBTIXG AT THE CROSS. 



and the Son of man standing on the ri^ht 
hand of God.' ? To another he is visible, 
but involved in a dim cloud as yet. Firm of 
heart, that believer cries, " I know in whom 
I have believed." By a third he is seen, but 
scarcely recognized. " My heart burns within 
me," he exclaims, as did the disciples at 
Emmaus : and yet he dares not believe that 
he sees his Lord. 

"When a disciple of the latter class hears 
the testimony of one of the former class he 
is disposed to doubt his own faith, and to 
deny that he sees his Lord at all. This is 
wrong, fatally wrong. It is even foolish. 
What if among the gazers at the ship we just 
now described, one of them, who could not 
decide her quality when all the rest could see 
her to be a brig, should therefore say he saw 
no ship at all. Because he could not see as 
clearly as they, should he therefore say he 
could not see at ail ? You smile at his sup- 
posed folly : yet the case is that of the man, 
who, because he cannot as yet see so much 
of his Lord's glory and beauty as his fellow- 



THE DOUBTING AT THE CROSS. 105 

disciple, denies the reality of what he does 
see. 

This should not be. Faith has degrees. 
One believer grasps the promise with a 
giant's strength, another clasps it with the 
weakness of a babe. Yet the faith of one is 
as real as the faith of the other \ and as the 
babe's strength will increase with its growth, 
so will faith strengthen by exercise. And he 
who to-day considers himself the weakest of 
Christ's disciples may scripturally expect to 
have a faith as strong as Stephen's, as victo- 
rious as Paul's. 

Hold on, then, lamb of the flock, to thy 
faith. Be afraid to doubt, for doubt is 
presumption. To doubt is to deny God, to 
contradict the word of his grace. He has 
said it, — he cannot lie: if you believe, you 
shall be saved. Then it must be so. To 
cast yourself on Christ, and to say in your 
heart, " God will not accept me," is an act of 
terrible wickedness. Do not for your soul's 
sake commit it. But stand on his promise. 
Say, God has promised ; I believe I will be 
accepted. Let no thought of a stony heart, 



io6 THE DOUBTING AT THE CROSS. 



a want of feeling, or any thing else, hinder 
thee. Thou art not to be saved for having 
feelings, or tenderness of spirit, but because 
Christ died. Anon - 



COMFORT FOR THE DOUBTING. 

O Holy Comforter ! 
I hear 

Thy blessed name with throbbing heart, 
Pressed oft with sorrow, sin, and fear, 
And pierced with many a venomed dart ; 
Come, Messenger divine, 
Come, cheer this heart of mine. 

O Holy Comforter ! 
I know 

Thou art not to dull sense revealed : 
Thou com'st unseen as the sweet flow 
Of the soft wind that woos the field. 
Breathe, Messenger divine, 
Breathe on this soul of mine. 

O Holy Comforter ! 
Thy light 
Is light eternal and serene : 



THE DOUBTING AT THE CROSS. 1 07 



Shine thou, and on my ravished sight 
Visions shall break of things unseen. 
Come, Messenger divine, 
Make these bright glimpses mine. 

O Holy Comforter ! 
Thy love 
O'erfloweth as the flooding sea : 
Give me its tenderness to prove, 
Visions shall break of things unseen. 
Come, Messenger divine, 
Make these bright glimpses mine. 

O Holy Comforter ! 
Thy grace 
Is life and help and hope and power : 
By this I can each cross embrace, 
Can triumph in the darkest hour. 
Come, Messenger divine, 
The strength of grace be mine. 

O Holy Comforter ! 
Thy peace, 
The peace of God, impart, and keep 
Unruffled till life's tumults cease, 
And all its angry tempests sleep. 
Come, Messenger divine, 
Thy perfect peace be mine. 

Rev. Ray Palmer, D.D. 



Io8 THE DOUBTING AT THE CROSS. 



CONQUERING FAITH. 

But two instances are recorded in which 
Jesus passed an approving judgment, and 
looked with an admiring regard, upon the faith 
of those who came to him ; and it is remarka- 
ble that they are those of the two Gentiles, — 
the Roman centurion and the Syro-Phoeni- 
cian woman. " Verily," said he of the one, 
" I have not found so great faith, — no, not in 
Israel ! " " Woman," said he to the other, 
" great is thy faith ! " 

Great faith was needed in those who were 
the first to force the barrier that ages had 
thrown up between Jew and Gentile ; and 
great faith in these instances was displayed. 
Of the two, however, that of the purely 
Gentile woman was the highest in its charac- 
ter and the noblest in its achievements. 

The Roman's faith was in the unlimited- 
ness of Christ's power, — a power he believed 
so great, that, even as he said to his soldiers, 
" Go ! " and they went ■ " Come ! " and they 
came ; " Do this ! " and they did it, — so 
could Jesus say to disease and life and 



THE DOUBTING AT THE CROSS. 109 



death ; curing at a distance, saving by the 
simple word of his power ! The faith of the 
Canaanite was not simply in the unlimited- 
ness of Christ's power. His power she never 
for a moment doubted. He had no reason 
to say to her, Believest thou that I am able 
to do this ? But his willingness he gave her 
himself some reason to doubt. Thousands 
placed as she was would have doubted ; 
thousands tried as she was would have failed. 
Which of us has a faith in Jesus of which we 
are quite sure that it would come through 
such 1 a conflict unscathed ? In her it never 
seems for a moment to have faltered. In 
front of his mysterious, unexampled silence ; 
of the explanation given of that silence that 
appeared to exclude ; beneath the sentence 
that assigned her a place among the dogs, — 
her faith lived on, with a power in it to pene- 
trate the folds of that dark mantle which the 
Lord for a short season drew around him ; 
to know and see that behind the assumed 
veil of coldness, silence, indifference, repulse, 
reproach, there beat the willing, loving heart, 
upon whose boundless benevolence she casts 



HO THE DOUBTING AT THE CROSS, 

herself, trusting, and not afraid. This was 
her confidence, that there was more love in 
that heart to her than the outward conduct 
of Jesus might seem to indicate. It was 
that confidence which sustained her from first 
to last. It was that confidence which carried 
her over all the obstructions thrown succes- 
sively before her. It was that confidence 
which sharpened her wit, and gave her cour- 
age to snatch out of Christ's own hand 
the weapon by which her last and greatest 
victory was won. It was that confidence in 
him, in spite of all adverse appearances, 
which pleased the Lord so much, — for he 
likes, as we all do, to be trusted in, — and 
which drew from him the unwonted expres- 
sion at once of approval and admiration, " O 
woman, great is thy faith ! " It is the same 
kind of simple trust in Jesus that we need ; 
and in us, too, if we but had it in like degree, 
it would accomplish like blessed results. 
What the silence and the sentences of Jesus 
were to that entreating woman, crying after 
Jesus to have her poor child cured, his ways 
and his dealings, in providence and in grace, 



THE DOUBTING A T THE CROSS. 1 1 1 



are to us crying after him for the healing 
of our own or others' spiritual maladies. 
W e cry, but he answers not a word ; we en- 
treat, but he turns upon us a frowning 
countenance ; when he speaks, his words 
seem to cut us off from comfort and from 
help. But deal as he may with us, hide him- 
self as he may, speak roughly as he may, let 
us still believe that there beats in that heart 
of the Redeemer a love to us upon which we 
can at all times cast ourselves in full, un- 
bounded trust. 

" Woman, great is thy faith : be it unto 
thee even as thou wilt. And her daughter 
was made whole from that very hour." 

Dr. Hanna. 



INTERCESSION. 

Not yet, his ministry of love complete, 
Rests our Redeemer in his throne on high ; 
But bearing still a lost world on his heart, 
And still remembering of the cross its smart, 

Above the sky 
An Intercessor pleads, for you and I ! 



112 THE DOUBTING AT THE CROSS. 



Swift glance those eyes that are "a flame of 
fire ; " 

Ne'er could we sinners dare approach so nigh 
That great white throne to see, though bowed in 
prayer ; 

While rolling thunders waken justice there 

To spurn our cry : 
Did Christ not also plead for you and I ! 

But sweet the thought to every heart oppressed 
Through battle with the foe, " If any sin 
We have an Advocate" with the Just One, 
Who'll turn his wrath because he loves the Son, 

Give grace to win, 
And help till through that grace we enter in. 

Most precious Mediator ! grant that we 
From thy rich fulness may receive supply 
Whene'er we struggle in the fight, or kneel 
Thy sympathizing, strengthening aid to feel : 

E'en till we die, 
Remembering thou art pleading in the sky ! 

Rev. G. G. Phipps. 



THE DOUBTING AT THE CROSS. 1 13 



DOUBT DISPELLED. 

Notice for your comfort some of the ways 
in which the Lord of love banishes the mid- 
night of the soul. Sometimes he removes all 
gloom by the sun of his providence. He bids 
prosperity shine into the window of the 
hovel, and the poor grow rich ; he lifts the 
beggar from the dung-hill, and sitteth him 
among princes. The wings of angels bear 
healing to the sick ; and the man long tossing 
on his bed walks forth to breathe the pure, 
sweet air so long denied him. The great 
Arbiter of all events doth but turn the 
wheel of fortune, and those who were lowest 
are highest, — the last are the first, and the 
first are the last. He can do the same for 
any of us, both in temporals and in spirituals, 
if so it seemeth him good. He hath but to 
ordain it so, and our poverty will be ex- 
changed for plenty. Our Lord often cheers 
his people with the moon of their experience, 
which shines with borrowed light, but yet with 
a brightness calm and tranquil, well-beloved 
by the sons of sorrow. He bids us recollect 

8 



114 THE DOUBTING AT THE CROSS. 

the days of old, and our spirit maketh dili- 
gent search : we find that he has never left 
his people, neither to ourselves hath he 
been treacherous. We remember when we 
were in a like case to the present ; we note 
that we were well sustained, and ultimately 
delivered ; and so we are encouraged to 
believe that to-day shall be as the past, and 
yet more abundantly. Frequently our heav- 
enly Father, cheers his children by a sight of 
Jesus going before. That defile between 
overhanging rocks is so dark ! I, a poor 
timid child, shrink back from it ; but how is 
my courage restored as I see Jesus bearing 
the lantern of his love, and going before me 
into the thick darkness ! Hark ! I hear 
him say, " Follow me ; " and, while he speaks, 
I perceive a light streaming from his sacred 
person ; every thorn of his crown gleams 
like a star ; the jewels of his breastplate 
flash like lamps, and his wounds gleam with 
celestial splendor. " Fear not," saith he, 
" for in all your afflictions I have been afflict- 
ed. I was tempted in all points like as you 
are, though without sin." Who can tell the 



THE DOUBTING AT THE CROSS. 115 

encouragement given to the heir of heaven 
by the fact that the elder brother has passed 
through all the dark passages which lead to 
the promised rest ! God had one Son with- 
out sin, but he never had a son without 
chastisement. He who always did his 
Father's will, yet had to suffer. Courage, 
my heart, courage ! for if Jesus suffered — if 
that pang which tears thy heart, first was 
felt by him — thou mayst be of good cheer 
indeed. 

Better still is the comfort derived from the 
grand truth that Jesus is actually present in 
the daily afflictions of believers. Jesus 
knocks at my door, and says, " Come with 
me from Lebanon, my spouse, with me from 
Lebanon : look from the top of Amana, from 
the top of Shenir and Hermon, from the 
lions' dens, from the mountains of the leop- 
ards ! " I look forth from the window into 
the cold and dreary night, and I answer 
him, " The night is black and cheerless. I 
have put off my coat : how shall I put it on ? 
I have washed my feet : how shall I defile 
them ? I cannot arise and follow thee." 



Il6 THE DOUBTING AT THE CROSS. 

But the Beloved is not to be thus refused : 
he knocks again, and he saith, " Come forth 
with me into the fields ; let us lodge in the 
villages : there will I give thee my loves." 
Overcome by his love, I arise, and go with 
my heavenly Bridegroom. If the rain-drops 
fall pitilessly upon me, yet it is most sweet to 
see that his head also is filled with dew, and 
his locks with the drops of the night. The 
howling wind tosses his garments as well as 
mine ; his feet tread the same miry places 
as my own ; and all the while he calls me his 
beloved, his love, his dove, his undefiled, 
and tells me of the land which lies beyond 
the darkness, and speaks of the mountains 
of myrrh and of the beds of spices, the top 
of Amana, Shenir, and Hermon. My soul 
is melted while my Beloved speaks, and 
my heart feels it sweet beyond expression 
to walk with him ; for, lo ! while he is near 
me, the night is lit up with innumerable 
stars, the sky is aglow with glory, every 
cloud flames like a seraph's wing, while the 
pitiless blast is all unable to chill the heart 
which burns within while he talketh with me 



THE DOUBTING AT THE CROSS. 117 

by the way. In after-years we are wont to 
speak to one another of that dark night and 
its marvellous brightness ; of that cold wind 
that was so strangely tempered ; and we even 
say to one another, " I would fain pass 
through a thousand nights in such company ; 
I would be willing to go on a midnight jour- 
ney evermore with that dearest of friends, 
for, oh ! where he is, night is day ; in his 
presence suffering is joy ; when he reveals 
himself, pains are pleasures, and earth blos- 
soms with flowers of Eden." Thus doth 
the Well-beloved by his presence make our 
darkness light. c. h. Spurgeon. 



I AM CHRIST'S, AND CHRIST IS 
MINE. 

Long did I toil, and knew no earthly rest ; 

Far did I rove, and found no certain home. 
At last I sought them in his sheltering breast 

Who opes his arms, and bids the weary come. 
With him I found a home, a rest divine ; 
And I since then am his, and he is mine. 



Il8 THE DOUBTING AT THE CROSS. 



Yes : he is mine ! and nought of earthly things, 
Not all the charms of pleasure, wealth, or 
power, 

The fame of heroes, or the pomp of kings, 

Could tempt me to forego his love an hour. 
Go, worthless world, I cry, with all that's thine ! 
Go ! I my Saviour's am, and he is mine. 

The good I have is from his stores supplied ; 

The ill is only what he deems the best : 
He for my friend, I'm rich with nought beside, 

And poor without him, though of all possess'd. 
Changes may come : I take, or I resign ; 
Content while I am his, while he is mine. 

Whate'er may change, in him no change is seen ; 

A glorious Sun, that wanes not nor declines, 
Above the clouds and storms he walks serene, 

And sweetly on his people's darkness shines. 
All may depart : I fret not nor repine, 
While I my Saviour's am, while he is mine. 

He stays me falling, lifts me up when down, 
Reclaims me wandering, guards from every 
foe, 

Plants on my worthless brow the victor's crown, 
Which, in return, before his feet I throw, 



THE DOUBTING AT THE CROSS. 119 

Grieved that I cannot better grace his shrine 
Who deigns to own me his, as he is mine. 

While here, alas ! I know but half his love, 
But half discern him, and but half adore ; 

But, when I meet him in the realms above, 
I hope to love him better, praise him more, 

And feel and tell, amid the choir divine, 

How fully I am his, and he is mine. 

Rev. H. F. Lyte. 



TRUSTING BETTER THAN TRYING. 

" Come unto me," said Christ, " and I will 
give you rest." Every believer in Christ 
knows how profoundly true these words are. 
Even the souls who have not yet trusted in 
him feel their power. Our spirits instinc- 
tively confess their relationship to the divine 
Brother. They turn to him as the magnetic 
needle turns to its pole ; and, when not held 
away by other forces, they settle to rest in 
him. He is not only the Consolation of 
Israel, but the Desire of all nations. He is 
our peace ; and we own the blessed truth, 
even before we experience its fulness in our 
souls. 



120 THE DOUBTING AT THE CROSS. 

And this rest, which comes of our trusting 
in Christ, is not stagnation, not a death-like 
lethargy : it is superabounding life, the har- 
monious, and therefore still and peaceful, 
movement of all our spiritual powers. The 
evil of our striving after holiness in our own 
strength arises from the fact that we have 
fallen away from God. All action, while we 
continue in that estrangement, is abnormal. 
The spiritual mechanism is thrown out of 
gear, and out of connection with its true 
source of motion. Hence the more activity 
it has, the more is it only broken, and re- 
duced to chaos. This is the agitation which 
pervades the soul before it trusts ; but when 
it trusts in the Mediator, then is the connec- 
tion between it and God restored. Then do 
all its functions, like well-adjusted wheels, 
proceed smoothly and in due order. Christ, 
the central Sun, does not hold the planets 
motionless, but causes them to move peace- 
fully in their appointed orbits. 

Thus it is that Christ becomes the divine 
Healer, the great Physician of our souls. 
He stills their discord, not by repressing any 



THE DOUBTING AT THE CROSS. 121 

want, but by putting them in tune. He re- 
stores them to that state of health without 
which all their activity can end only in 
disorder and death. Their rest in him is 
therefore the fulness and overflow of spiritual 
life. There is one kind of stillness which 
we recognize as the sign of death ; another 
kind which we know to be the attendant of 
beauty and growing life. The process is 
peaceful and noiseless by which the germ 
rises out of the ground into the blade, and 
then ascends, through the ear, into the full 
corn in the ear. Look forth on a summer 
landscape, when all the millions of leaves 
and blossoms, the great and small trees, and 
the plants that flourish but a season, are 
swelling with the life they receive from the 
sun. How still that landscape is ! How 
peaceful ! How one is calmed by looking 
upon it, and resting with it, in its full and 
unfolding life ! Thus does the soul rest in 
Christ. Its repose is not death, but life and 
health and peace. Its fibres knit themselves 
in his infinite heart of love ; and throughout 
all its frame a spiritual vigor is felt stealing 



122 THE DOUBTING AT THE CROSS. 



in ; and it rests and grows and blooms, and 
bears fruit in its season. It bears what 
Christ meant when he said that the light in 
him was the life of men, — what he meant 
when he said, " If ye abide in me, and my 
words abide in you, ye shall ask what ye 
will, and it shall be done unto you." 

While out of Christ, trying in our own 
strength to be true men and women, we 
resemble a seed driven before the wind. 
We are tossed up and down ; we find no 
congenial soil ; we are not allowed to rest 
anywhere long enough to germinate. But 
as soon as we are in Christ, by the quiet 
surrender of our souls to his keeping, we 
resemble that same seed planted by the 
rivers of water. Not tossed to and fro any 
longer, but sending out our root by the river, 
our leaf doth not wither ; and, in all our 
aspirations after conformity to God, we pros- 
per. O thou famished, prone, world-ridden 
soul ! there are possibilities in thee of which 
thou makest small account. They slumber 
in the grave of a carnal life ; and human 
strength can but roll away the stone from the 



THE DOUBTING AT THE CROSS. 123 



door of the sepulchre. Only as Christ comes, 
and speaks the life-giving word out of his 
heart to thine, shalt thou indeed live, and 
come forth into the freedom of the sons of 
God. 

" Cast your deadly doing down, — 
Down at Jesus' feet; 
Stand in him alone, 
Glorious and complete." 

J. M. Manning, D.D. 



GOD KNOWS IT ALL. 

In the dim recess of thy spirit's chamber 

Is there some hidden grief thou mayst not 
tell ? 

Let not thy heart forsake thee, but remember 
His pitying eye, who sees and knows it well. 

. " God knows it all ! 

And art thou tossed on billows of temptation, 
And wouldst do good, but evil oft prevails ? 

Oh think amid the waves of tribulation, 

When earthly hopes, when earthly refuge fails, 
God knows it all ! 



124 THE DOUBTING AT THE CROSS. 



And dost thou sin, thy deeds of shame conceal- 
ing 

In some dark spot no human eye can see, 
Then walk in pride, without one sigh revealing 
The deep remorse that should disquiet thee ? 

God knows it all ! 

Art thou opprest and poor and heavy-hearted, 
The heavens above thee in thick clouds ar- 
rayed, 

And well-nigh crushed, no earthly strength 
imparted, 

No friendly voice to say, " Be not afraid " ? — 
God knows it all ! 

Art thou a mourner ? are thy tear-drops flowing 
For one so early lost to earth and thee, 

The depth of grief no human spirit knowing, 
Which moan in secret, like the moaning sea ? 

God knows it all ! 

Dost thou look back upon a life of sinning ? 

Forward, and tremble for thy future lot ? 
There's one who sees the end from the begin- 
ning : 

Thy tear of penitence is unforgot. 

God knows it all ! 



THE DOUBTING AT THE CROSS. 125 



Then go to God ! Pour out your hearts before 
him ! 

There is no grief your Father cannot feel ; 
And let your grateful songs of praise adore 
him,— 

To save, forgive, and every wound to heal. 

God knows it all 1 

Anon. 




" The cross of Christ is the sweetest burden that ever I bore ; 
it is such a burden as wings are to a bird, or as sails to a ship, to 
carry me forward to my desired haven. 

" Those who by faith see the invisible God and the fair city 
make no account of present losses and crosses. 

" Truly it is a glorious thing to follow the Lamb : it is the 
highway to glory ; but when you see him in his own country, at 
home, you will think you never saw him before. 

" More than Christ I can neither wish nor pray nor desire for 
you. I am sure the saints are at best but strangers to the weight 
and worth of the incomparable excellence of Christ. We know 
not the half of what we love when we love him. 

" That Christ and the sinners should be one, and should share 
heaven between them, is the wonder of salvation ; what more 
could love do ? 

" 1 find that when the saints are under trials, and well humble, 
little sin raises great cries in the conscience ; but in prosperity 
conscience is a pope that gives dispensations and great latitude 
to our hearts. The cross is therefore as needful as the crown 
will be glorious." 




Sorrow is a part of human experience. 
It will never cease out of the world. As 
long as man inhabits the globe in his pres- 
ent sinful condition there will be misery, — 
sorrow on the sea and on the land. True 
religion is seen in its power to lift the soul 
above sorrow, and give it endurance and faith. 
And religion often appears most beautiful in 
times of sorrow. It is seen then as a lamp 
in a dark night. " I would not give much 
for your religion/' says Spurgeon, " unless it 
can be seen. Lamps do not talk ; but they 
do shine. A lighthouse sounds no drum, it 
beats no gong ; and yet far over the waters 
its friendly spark is seen by the mariner. So 

9 129 



130 THE MOURNER AT THE CROSS. 



let your actions shine out your religion. Let 
the main sermon of your life be illustrated 
by all your conduct, and it shall not fail to 
be illustrious." 



LEAN HARD. 

Child of my love, " lean hard," 
And let me feel the pressure of thy care. 
I know thy burden, child. I shaped it, 
Poised it in mine own hand, made no propor- 
tion 

In its weight to thine unaided strength ; 
For, even as I laid it on, I said, 
" I shall be near, and while she leans on me 
This burden shall be mine, not hers : 
So shall I keep my child within the circling 
arms 

Of mine own love." Here lay it down, nor fear 
To impose it on a shoulder which upholds 
The government of worlds. Yet closer come : 
Thou art not near enough ; I would embrace thy 
care, 

So I might feel my child reposing on my breast. 
Thou lovest me? I knew it. Doubt not, then, 
But, loving me, lean hard. 



THE MOURNER AT THE CROSS. 131 



MARY IN TEARS. 

" Jesus saith unto her, Touch me not ; for I am not yet 
ascended to my Father : but go to my brethren, and say unto 
them, I ascend unto my Father and your Father, and to my 
God and your God." — John xx. 17. 

It must have been with rapturous delight 
that Mary recognized the voice of her 
adorable Lord and Saviour. I have no doubt 
it was the expression of that delight, in seek- 
ing to lay hold on Christ, and to detain him, 
that gave rise to what is stated here, and to 
the words of our Lord. Mary was in great 
distress. Nobody can tell what she must 
have suffered from the time of the crucifixion 
until she saw the Lord again. Early in the 
morning of the first day of the week, she 
came to pay her last token of deep affection 
to Jesus, — she came to embalm the body. 
So little did she know about the resurrec- 
tion, that she came to attend the dead body 
in the sepulchre : she came to embalm it, 
to keep it there ; and, when she came, the 
body was not there. " They have taken 
away the Lord/' she said, " out of the sep- 



132 THE MOURNER AT THE CROSS. 



ulchre, and we know not where they have 
laid him." Here was her distress. Her 
soul was broken down. " They have taken 
away the Lord/' so she said ; and she re- 
mained there gazing into the sepulchre, 
completely broken-hearted, with her eyes 
dimmed with tears. It would seem that she 
scarcely saw or knew who the angels were 
that spoke to her. Angels spoke to her \ but 
she seems scarcely to have taken any notice 
of them. Christ spoke to her • but she seems 
not to have taken notice of him, thinking he 
was the gardener. " Jesus is taken away," 
she says, " and no man will tell me where I 
can find him ; " until at last Jesus says in his 
own voice, " Mary, why weepest thou ? " 

She thought she had cause enough to weep. 
Yet was there cause to weep ? Had she had 
her own way, how would it have been ? Ah ! 
what grand mistakes we do make ! Had she 
found the dead body of Jesus, she would not 
have wept ; but, because the dead body was 
not there, she did weep. Had she found the 
body, she might well have wept. If Jesus 
be not risen, there is an end of the whole 



THE MOURNER AT THE CROSS. 133 

matter • we are yet in our sins : then have 
all who have died in Christ perished. But 
now is Jesus risen, to become the first-fruits 
of them that slept. Had she found the dead 
body, I say, she might have wept, — wept in 
the loss of all that is precious, wept in the 
ruin of every hope, ay, wept in the absence 
of all light for time and eternity. You and I 
weep very often, and wee,p for the very thing 
we ought to rejoice about, and we rejoice 
over the very thing that will prove pur curse. 
Oh! let us learn to be taught by God in 
every thing. If Mary had learned more what 
Jesus had taught, if she had understood the 
Scripture, that he would have risen from 
the dead, the vacant sepulchre would be the 
greatest cause for rejoicing, instead of weep- 
ing, and she would have sung to the praise 
of Almighty God. But the sepulchre was 
empty: that was enough for her. She did 
not wait to ask how it was empty, or why it 
was empty, or where he was gone. She had 
sought her Lord there : her Lord was not 
there, and her heart was filled with over- 
whelming sorrow. One can quite understand, 



134 THE MOURNER AT THE CROSS. 

that being the case, as it certainly was, that 
when Jesus spoke to her, and she recognized 
the voice of her precious Lord, the first 
thing she would do would be to seek to 
embrace him, to lay hold of him. This is 
exactly what she did : she sought at once to 
embrace him. " Touch me not," said Jesus. 
The meaning of the word is more than touch : 
it means to lay hold of. " Do not lay hold 
of me; I am not yet risen." It admits of 
that. " I have not yet ascended ; the time 
has not come for that ; don't be in a hurry, I 
am going to remain ; go and tell my disciples 
so and so." That is the explanation of these 
circumstances. " Go and tell my disciples 
that I ascend to my God and your God, to my 
Father and your Father." 

Rev. Caspar Molyneux. 



IN THE DARK. 

Look on me, Thou who hast all creatures made, 
And in thy boundless love upholdest them, — 
On me, a child, who in the dark, afraid, 
Am reaching forth to grasp thy garment's hem. 



THE MOURNER AT THE CROSS. 135 



Thy heart is full of love : oh, give me light ! 
The shadows come between thy face and me ; 
And trembling, shrinking, in this ghostly night, 
I call aloud, O Son of God, on thee ! 

Exorcise thou the dread that haunts me so, 
The demon whisperings of fear and doubt ; 
Thy strong and loving arms about me throw, 
And bear me thus from this long blackness out. 

I touch thy robe ; I clasp thy wounded hand : 
Dear Christ of God, thou dost not turn away ! 
Leaning against thy heart, I understand 
How thou wilt lead me to the perfect day. 

Una Locke. 



THE SYMPATHY OF CHRIST. 

To a mind outwardly instructed, but not 
inwardly taught of the Spirit, God, our best 
Judge, seems to stand at an inaccessible 
distance in the highest heaven. From that 
height Christ the Mediator seems to descend 
on our behalf, and take up his position on an 
intermediate stage, half way between heaven 
and earth. Thence he beckons us to come, 



136 THE MOURNER AT THE CROSS. 

and promises to save. But though he seems 
nearer to us than heaven, and willing to 
receive us when we reach his standing-place, 
there is still between him and us a great 
gulf, which we cannot pass. We have not 
the wings of a dove, whereon we might fly to 
him, and be at rest. Although he engages 
to carry us all- the way to heaven after we 
have climbed up to him, we cannot climb up 
to him, and so lie down despairing. Clogged 
by the body, and sticking fast in the thick 
clay of earthly cares, we never once get up 
into that region where Jesus seems to stand, 
where we keep him standing. 

What then ? The dupes of the Romish 
priesthood call upon Mary and Peter, and 
other more doubtful saints, to come and help 
them over and up to Christ. As the poor, 
shivering child stands on the gulfs brim, and 
sees Jesus at a hopeless distance on the 
other side, saints of various name and char- 
acter approach, and undertake to bear the 
trembler over. Those who throw themselves 
into these outstretched arms sink through 
into the pit. The saint was nothing but a 



THE MOURNER AT THE CROSS, 137 



shadow, — the shadow of a name. But what 
of us who know full well that these mani- 
fold mediators are unsubstantial phantoms ? 
What of us who intelligently demand creden- 
tials, and refuse to leap for life into the 
embrace of deceivers ? We detect and dis- 
trust the false offer of help ; but, without 
help, we cannot lift ourselves up to a lofty, 
distant Saviour. What then ? Then stand 
still, and see the salvation of God. Lo ! he 
comes, — he comes over and down to us. 
He stands where we stand; he looks into 
our faces ; he stretches out his arms ; he 
clasps us to his breast. He does not remain 
distant, ready to receive us after we have by 
our own energy raised ourselves to yonder 
height of spiritual attainment. He comes 
near to bear us first from our low estate up 
to that height, and afterwards beyond it, all 
the way to heaven. He will work the first 
part of our redemption, and the last. He 
will do all. He does not wait for those who 
can escape from the trammels of earth, and 
arise into the region of the spiritual : he 
descends to the level of mere humanity, and 



138 THE MOURNER AT THE CROSS. 

folds in his everlasting love those who lie 
groaning there. "Jesus wept." I could 
not spare that word from my Bible any more 
than I could spare the incarnation or the 
intercession. What although he had done 
divinely all the work, except a little portion 
at the lower end ? Unable to do that little 
for myself, the greater, higher part accom- 
plished would have been of no avail to me. 
What although he had come, and come to 
save, all the way from the Godhead down to 
the spiritual regions in the higher strata of 
humanity ? Sunk and loaded as I was, I 
could not have soared thither to meet him 
there. He has come the whole way down to 
us. " Lo, I am with you always." Look 
unto Jesus. Behold, he weeps, and weeps 
with a sister at a brother's grave. He 
does not reserve all his concern for our sins : 
he lavishes his sympathy also upon our sor- 
rows. No chasm remains which we must 
pass alone on our way to Christ. He is God 
with us. 

In the life of Jesus, as recorded for us by 
the Spirit, there are two weepings. Twice 



THE MOURNER AT THE CROSS. 139 



in the body, and on the earth, the man Jesus 
Christ shed tears ; but in neither case were 
they shed for himself. Not in Gethsemane, 
not on the cross, did Jesus weep. Both the 
sorrows were for our sakes ; but they differed 
widely from each other. When he drew 
near Jerusalem, and beheld the city, he wept 
over it : when he saw a bereaved sister 
mourning for a dead brother, he wept with 
her. The one weeping was for human guilt : 
the other was for human sorrow. The one 
marks his divine compassion for the sinful : 
the other, his human sympathy with the suf- 
ferer. Each is precious in its own place, but 
the places are widely diverse. The two 
examples exhibit different qualities of the 
Saviour, and meet different necessities of 
men. His compassion for sinners, manifest- 
ed in his tears over Jerusalem, is a link in 
the chain by which we are saved, but it is an 
upper link : his sorrow with a sister beside a 
brother's grave is a link lower down, and 
therefore nearer us. His pity for me as a 
sinner shows that he is great and good : his 
weeping with me in my sorrow shows that his 



140 THE MOURNER AT THE CROSS. 



greatness and goodness are within my reach. 
When I could not arise to meet him in the 
region of his own spiritual compassion, he 
has bowed down to meet me in my natural 
weakness. I could not rise to lay hold of 
him, but he bends to take hold of me. 
Standing where I stand, and weeping when 
I weep, he enters by the openings which 
grief has made into my heart, and gently 
makes it all his own. dr. arnot. 



THE SEEN AND THE UNSEEN. 

What to that for which we're waiting 

Is this glittering, earthly toy ? 
Heavenly glory, holy splendor, 

Sum of grandeur, sum of joy ! 
Not the gems that time can tarnish ; 

Not the hues that dim and die ; 
Not the glow that cheats the lover, 

Shaded with mortality. 
Heir of glory, 

That shall be for thee and me. 



THE MOURNER AT THE CROSS. 141 

Not the light that leaves us darker ; 

Not the gleams that come and go ; 
Not the mirth whose end is madness ; 

Not the joy whose fruit is woe ; 
Not the notes that die at sunset ; 

Not the fashion of a day ; 
But the everlasting beauty, 

And the endless melody. 
Heir of glory, 

That shall be for thee and me. 

City of the pearl-bright portal, 

City of the jasper wall, 
City of the golden pavement, 

Seat of endless festival, 
City of Jehovah, Salem, 

City of eternity, 
To thy bridal halls of gladness 

From this prison would I flee. 
Heir of glory, 

That shall be for thee and me. 

Ah ! with such strange spells around me, 
Fairest of what earth calls fair, 

How I need thy fairer image 
To undo the syren snare, 

Lest the subtle serpent-tempter 
Lure me with his radiant lie, 



142 THE MOURNER AT THE CROSS. 



As if sin were sin no longer, 
Life were no more vanity ! 

Heir of glory, 
What is that to thee and me ? 

Yes, I need thee, heavenly city, 

My low spirit to upbear ; 
Yes, I need thee, earth's enchantments 

So beguile me with their glare. 
Let me see thee, then, these fetters 

Break asunder : I am free. 
Then this pomp no longer claims me : 

Faith has won the victory. 
Heir of glory, 

That shall be for thee and me. 

Soon, where earthly beauty blinds not, 

Nor excess of brilliance palls, 
Salem, city of the holy, 

We shall be within thy walls : 
There, beside yon crystal river ; 

There, beneath life's wondrous tree ; 
There, with nought to cloud or sever, — 

Ever with the Lamb to be. 
Heir of glory, 

That shall be for thee and me. 

Dr. Bonar. 



THE MOURNER AT THE CROSS. 143 



JESUS WEPT. 

There is an ocean of meaning in these 
tears. They went with power to the hearts 
of the by-standers. They drew Martha and 
Mary to the Saviour as they had never been 
drawn before. And were they ever forgotten 
by any who saw them coursing their way down 
his cheeks ? No. They spake a language 
that was heard in Jerusalem and in Judaea, 
and whithersoever any of this company that 
stood round the grave of Lazarus wandered 
in their subsequent pilgrimage. In all their 
vicissitudes through life, — in business, in 
pleasure, in joy, or in sorrow, — whenever 
the name of Jesus was heard, these tears, 
with their soft and touching language, came 
up to allay the raging passions of the soul, to 
cheer the desponding heart, and to comfort 
the afflicted mourner. They opened to them 
a new world of admiration, love, and devotion : 
for they laid bare the matchless human heart 
of Jesus ; they revealed a soul there alive to 
every tender emotion, strung to every chord 
of sympathy and atfection, and touched with 
every human woe. 



144 THE MOURNER AT THE CROSS. 



And are not those tears still speaking? 
Who has not been drawn towards Jesus, as 
he has reflected, " Behold how he loved 
hi?n/" And am I not a sinner, as Lazarus 
was ? May I not be the friend of Jesus, as 
Lazarus was ? Am I not a man, as Lazarus 
was ? Has he not invited me with as much 
cordiality and earnestness to make my cause 
his care, as he ever could have done Lazarus ? 
Then why should I hesitate to go to him for 
what my soul needs ? I will arise, and go. 

If the history of souls saved from ruin 
could be written, more would be found to 
have been drawn to the Saviour by these 
exhibitions of his kindness, condescension, 
love, and sympathy, springing from the heart 
of a true man, than by all the terrors of the 
law. There is something in them so attrac- 
tive; that the heart that is not touched by 
them, when properly presented, must be 
callous indeed. Hence that presentation of 
Christ is most effectual that keeps these 
lovely traits of his character prominently in 

View. Presbyterian. 



THE MOURNER AT THE CROSS. 145 



"LOOKING OFF UNTO JESUS." 

Oh, eyes that are weary, and hearts that are sore, 
Look off unto Jesus, and sorrow no more : 
The light of his countenance shineth so bright, 
That on earth, as in heaven, there need be no 
night. 

" Looking off unto Jesus," my eyes cannot see 
The troubles and dangers that throng around 
me : 

They cannot be blinded with sorrowful tears, 
They cannot be shadowed with unbelief-fears. 

" Looking off unto Jesus," my spirit is blest : 
In the world I have turmoil ; in him I have 
rest : 

The sea of my life all about me may roar ; 
When I look unto Jesus, I hear it no more. 

" Looking off unto Jesus," I go not astray: 
My eyes are on him, and he shows me the way. 
The path may seem dark, as he leads me along ; 
But, following Jesus, I cannot go wrong. 

" Looking off unto Jesus," my heart cannot fear : 
Its trembling is still, when I see Jesus near. 
I know that his power my safeguard will be ; 
For " Why are ye troubled ? " he saith unto me. 

IO 



146 THE MOURNER AT THE CROSS. 



" Looking off unto Jesus," oh, may I be found, 
When the waters of Jordan encompass me 
round ! 

Let them bear me away in his presence to be : 
'Tis but seeing Him nearer whom always I see. 

Then, then I shall know the full beauty and 
grace 

Of Jesus, my Lord, when I stand face to face ; 
I shall know how his love went before me each 
day, 

And wonder that ever my eyes turned away ! 

Anon. 



REST, WEARY SOUL. 

Rest, weary soul : 
The penalty is borne, the ransom paid, 
For all thy sins full satisfaction made. 
Strive not thyself to do what Christ has done ; 
Take the free gift, and make the joy thine own. 
No more by pangs of guilt and fear distressed, 

Rest, sweetly rest. 

Rest, weary heart, 
From all thy silent griefs and secret pain, 
Thy profitless regrets and longings vain. 



THE MOURNER AT THE CROSS. 147 



Wisdom and love have ordered all the past ; 
All shall be blessedness and light at last. 
Cast off the cares that have so long oppressed : 
Rest, sweetly rest. 

Rest, weary head ; 
Lie down to slumber in the peaceful tomb : 
Light from above has broken through its gloom. 
Here, in the place where once thy Saviour lay, 
Where he shall wake thee on a future day, — 
Like a tired child upon its mother's breast, 

Rest, sweetly rest. 

Rest, spirit free, 
In the green pasture of the heavenly shore, 
Where sin and sorrow can approach no more ; 
With all the flock by the good Shepherd fed, 
Beside the streams of life eternal led, — 
Forever with thy God and Saviour blest, 

Rest, sweetly rest. 

Anon. 

CHRIST IN PROVIDENCE. 

Let the world imagine to itself a magnifi- 
cent Deity, whose government is only genera/. 
We adhere to the Lord God of Elijah, and 
rejoice in his providential superintendence of 
the smallest affairs. 



148 THE MOURNER AT THE CROSS. 



And this God still liveth, a living Saviour, 
who is always to be found of them that 
seek him, and is nigh unto them that call 
upon him. Mighty hosts are encamped 
about his servants ; and when he saith 
" Come," they come ; or " Go,'*' they go. 
And there has been no end to his wonderful 
providence, even to the present day. Who 
else was it but the Lord God of Elijah, who, 
but a short time since, in our very midst, so 
kindly delivered a poor man out of his dis- 
tress, — not, indeed, by a raven, but by a 
poor little fugitive singing-bird ? You are all 
w T ell acquainted with the circumstance. The 
poor man was sitting at his front door, early 
in the morning, his eyes red with weeping, 
and his heart crying to heaven \ for he was 
expecting an officer, that very day, to come 
and sell his property for a small debt, which 
he could not pay. Whilst sitting thus, with 
a heavy heart, a little bird flew through the 
street, fluttering up and down as if in dis- 
tress, until at length, quick as an arrow, it 
flew over the good man's head into his cot- 
tage, and perched itself upon an empty 



THE MOURNER AT THE CROSS. 149 

cupboard. The good man, little imagining 
who had sent him the bird, closed the door, 
caught the bird, and put it in a cage, where 
it immediately began to sing very sweetly ; 
and it seemed to him as if it were singing 
the tune of a favorite hymn, viz. : " Fear 
thou not when darkness reigns ; " and, as he 
listened to it, he found himself much soothed 
and comforted by its melody. 

Suddenly a knock is heard at the door. 
" Ah ! it is the officer," thought the poor man, 
and arose to open it with fear and trembling. 
But no : it was the servant of a respectable 
lady. He said that the neighbors had seen 
a bird fly into his house, and he wished to 
know if" he had caught it. " Oh, yes ! " an- 
swered the poor man ; " and here it is." In 
a few minutes the servant returned, and said, 
" You have done my mistress a great service, 
for she sets a high value upon this bird. 
She is much obliged to you, and requests 
you to accept this trifle, with her thanks." 
The poor man received it thankfully ; and it 
proved to be neither more nor less than 

THE VERY SUM FOR WHICH HE WAS SUED. 



ISO THE MOURNER AT THE CROSS. 



Soon after, the officer came ; the poor man 
handed him the money, saying, " Here is 
your money ; God has sent it : now leave 

me in peace." Krummacher. 

BEARING THE CROSS. 

The heavier cross, the nearer heaven : 
No cross without, no God within. 

Death, judgment, from the heart are driven, 
Amidst the world's false glare and din. 

Oh ! happy he, with all his loss, 

Whom God had set beneath the cross ! 

The heavier cross, the better Christian : 
This is the touchstone God applies. 

How many a garden would lie wasting, 
Unwet by showers from weeping eyes ! 

The gold by fire is purified ; 

The Christian is by trouble tried. 

The heavier cross, the stronger faith ; 

The loaded palm strikes deeper root ; 
The vine-juice sweetly issueth 

When men have pressed the clustered fruit ; 
And courage grows where dangers come, 
Like pearls beneath the salt-sea foam. 



THE MOURNER AT THE CROSS. 15 1 



The heavier cross, the heartier prayer : 
The bruised herbs most fragrant are ; 

If wind and sky were always fair, 
The sailor would not watch the star ; 

And David's psalms had ne'er been sung 

If grief his heart had never wrung. 

The heavier cross, the more aspiring : 
From vales we climb to mountain crest ; 

The pilgrim, of the desert tiring, 
Longs for the Canaan of his rest ; 

The dove has here no rest in sight, 

And to the ark she wings her flight. 

The heavier cross, the easier dying : 
Death is a friendlier face to see ; 

To life's decay one bids defying, 
From life's distress one then is free. 

The cross sublimely lifts our faith 

To Him who triumphed over death. 

Thou Crucified ! the cross I carry : 

The longer may it dearer be ; 
And, lest I faint whilst here I tarry, 

Implant thou such a heart in me, 
That faith, hope, love, may flourish there, 
Till for my cross the crown I wear ! 

From the German. 



152 THE MOURNER AT THE CROSS. 



SIN'S CURSE AND CURE. 



" Like things are cured by like." — Physician's Maxim. 

Hast thou e'er thought, 0 patient of the Great 
Physician, 

How thou wast lifted up from sin's accursed 
condition ? 

How rare the art, how wondrous the deep skill 
redemptive, 

When curse by curse is cured, and dying makes 
the dead live ? 



A tree in Eden bore the seed of sin's estrange- 
ment ; 

A tree on Calvary, love's red vintage of atone- 
ment : 

From that, the first-born Adam plucked sin's 
woe eternal, 

From this, the second Adam gave God's gift 
supernal. 



A thorn from earth upspringing was the curse 
primeval ; 

A thorn in crown inwrought procured that woe's 
removal : 



THE MOURNER AT THE CROSS. 153 

By sweat of brow, to fallen man his bread was 
given ; 

By bloody sweat of Gethsemane, the bread of 
heaven. 

0 tree of death ! whose poison still our race is 

stinging, 

1 find thy baleful seeds within my heart fresh 

springing ; 

O tree of life ! with grace and peace and mercy 
bending, 

Drop down on me thy precious balm of health 
unending. 

And when sin's thorn reminds me of my nature's 
evil, 

And when I sweat and faint in guilt's remorseful 
travail, 

O Saviour ! turn thy thorn-pierced brow upon 
my spirit, 

And hide my sin's deep wound in thy vicarious 
merit Rev. A. J. Gordon. 



I 




I 

I 




"Augustine was walking one morning by the seashore, 
meditating on the doctrine of the Trinity. Three holy persons, 
thought he, in the Godhead, equal in wisdom, equal in power, 
and equal in glory ; yet not three Gods, — only one ! And, as he 
tried in vain to understand it, he saw before him on the shore a 
little child, holding in its hand a colored sea-shell, scooping a 
hole in the sand, running to the waves, filling it with water, 
returning to the hole, and emptying it. ' What are you doing, 
child?' said Augustine. 'I am going,' said the child, 'to 
pour the sea into this hole ! ' Ah ! thought Augustine, it is the 
very thing I have been trying to do, — standing on the shore of 
time, by the ocean of the infinite and eternal Godhead, and try- 
ing to comprehend that Godhead with my little mind ! And 
the love of Jesus is such an unsearchable ocean, without bottom 
or bounds, therefore wonder and adore, but think not to dis- 
cover the cause of the love of Christ, which ' passeth knowl- 
edge.' " 




Wiommx at % €xqbb. 



Woman is indebted to the cross, if possi- 
ble, more deeply than man. Everywhere 
that the cross has no power, she is in an in- 
ferior condition, and is a neglected creature. 
But, where the religion of the cross comes, it 
lifts her up to equality with man, as his 
helper and friend. 



THE CROSS SANCTIFIED TO 
MOTHERS. 

" The fate of a child,'' said the first 
Napoleon, u is always the work of his 
mother." No other hand is gentle, and at 

157 



158 WOMAN AT THE CROSS. 

the same time strong enough for this work \ 
no aptness and patience, no skill and inge- 
nuity and tenderness, are like hers. Hence 
it is that she, and no one else, can make her 
child what she would have it. Hence it is 
that the mother makes the man. Would you 
seek the proof of this ? Turn over the pages 
of history : examine the annals of the church, 
and you will find, in the language of another, 
that, " as a general rule, superior men are ail 
the children of their mother ; " that great 
men are the children of great mothers. Who 
has ever read the story of Thermopylae with- 
out feeling that the Spartan mother formed 
the Spartan Leonidas? or, as we see the 
Curtius take the fatal leap, is it not a suf- 
ficient explanation of his heroic self-devotion 
to say he is the son of a Roman matron? 
Who gave Samuel and Augustine to the 
church of God ? The faithful Hannah and the 
loving, humble, patient Monica. And so, 
perhaps, I might say that almost every noble 
soul that has led forward or lifted up the 
race has been inspired with each patriotic 
and holy aspiration, and furnished with faith 



WOMAN A T THE CROSS. 159 



and strength for each virtuous and noble 
deed, by the love and patience and fortitude 
of some heroic Spartan, or Roman, or, more 
than either, some Christian mother. " Not 
long since," says the late Dr. Monod, " in a 
pastoral conference, where were assembled 
one hundred and twenty American pastors, 
united in a common faith, each one was 
invited to relate the human cause to which 
he attributed, under the divine blessing, the 
change of his heart ; and, out of those one 
hundred and twenty, more than one hundred 
gave the honor to their mother." Not long 
since, the Rev. Dr. Lei and of South Caro- 
lina stated, at a prayer-meeting at Saratoga 
Springs, " that, of one hundred students in 
the Theological Seminary at Columbia, he 
had ascertained, by personal inquiry, that 
ninety-nine received their first religious im- 
pressions from pious mothers." Says a 
French writer, " Of sixty-nine monarchs who 
have worn the French crown, only three have 
loved the people ; and all those three were 
reared by their mothers, without the interven- 
tion of pedagogues. St. Louis was trained 



160 WOMAN AT THE CROSS. 



by Blancha ; Louis XII. by Maria of Cleves ; 
and Henry IV. by Jane of Albret : and these 
were really the fathers of their people." 

John Randolph of Roanoke once made 
the following confession : " I should have 
been a French atheist, if it had not been for 
one recollection ; and that was the memory 
of the time when my departed mother used 
to take my little hands in hers, and cause me 
on my knees to say, ' Our Father who art 
in heaven.' " 

Well may woman rejoice in a mission so 
far-reaching and glorious in its possible re- 
sults. 

Man, then, owes to woman, not only his 
childhood, but his manhood. The mother 
follows her child through life ; her influence 
is illimitable and indestructible. Especially, 
and in a higher sense, is this true of the 
Christian mother. There is nothing more 
irresistible and permanent to man than the 
early impressions of a pious mother, en- 
shrined in his heart, and shielded by the 
simple charm of youthful remembrances. 
However silenced or neglected, the mysteri- 



WOMAN A T THE CROSS, 1 6 1 



ous workings of a mother's gentle love and 
faith will one day re-assert the influence of 
by-gone years. 

" My mother's voice ! how often creeps 

Its cadence on my lonely hours, 
Like healing sent on wings of sleep, 

Or dew to the unconscious flowers I 
I can forget her melting prayer 

While leaping pulses madly fly; 
But, in the still, unbroken air, 

Her gentle tones come stealing by, 
And years and sin and manhood flee, 
And leave me at my mother's knee." 

She does not, it is true, reign any longer 
by her authority over her children who have 
grown up to manhood ; but she may still 
exercise over them a dominion of love and 
reverence, which their maturity will honor 
none the less implicitly. Her child can 
never outgrow, or outgo, or destroy her love ; 
the pressure of her hand upon his head, 
the grasp of her hand about his heart, is as 
enduring as God's eternity. 

Surely she who first welcomed me into life 
with a smile and kiss of love, who folded me 
to her bosom and nourished me with her life, 



162 WOMAN AT THE CROSS. 

who bore with my folly and ingratitude and 
waywardness, and blessed me with her holy 
life, can never, never be forgotten by me ! I 
know what it is to have such a mother ; and 
I can testify before you, with my hand upon 
my heart, to the imperishable influence of 
a Christian mother. I had such a mother ; 
nay, blessed be God ! I have such a mother 
now : but she is living in heaven, while her 
beloved form sleeps beneath the soil of a 
distant State. Bear with the weakness of a 
son, in this passing tribute of affection to a 
pious mother, who is beyond- the reach of 
injurious praise or unjust censure. I do but 
fulfil the words of inspiration, — " Her 
children shall rise up, and call her blessed/' 
Well do I remember that home rendered 
fragrant with the odors of her saintly life. 
Well do I remember how meek and gentle, 
how pure and holy and self-forgetful, and 
yet how earnest, she was in all her domestic 
and social relations. Well do I remember 
that hand, so firm and yet so gentle, that I 
loved her the more, even while she subdued 
my wilfulness. Well do I remember the 



WOMAN AT THE CROSS. 163 

language of her eyes, that spoke more than 
her lips could speak of her unutterable 
tenderness. Well do I remember her 
prayers and counsels, baptized as they were 
with the tears of her heart. The voice of 
her prayer, ■ — ■ I hear it every day ! The 
spirit of her life, — I feel it every hour ! 
The memory of her love is fresher and 
greener than the sod that rests upon her 
head ! Shall I ever forget ? God knows, 
not while I have my being. 

I would not exchange the hallowed 
memories of my mother for all the riches of 
the universe ; for they come upon me like 
a holy inspiration, as strength to* my weak- 
ness, as an incitement to my faith, as an 
earnest of future and eternal good when I 
shall once again and forever stand face to 
face with her in the presence of our common 
Redeemer. What my mother is to me, my 
sister, you may be, if you are not, to your 
child. What my mother is to me, perhaps 
your mother is to you, my brother. If so, 
you at least know that I have used no 
superlative language. 



1 64 WOMAN AT THE CROSS. 



Would that all the mothers, would that all 
my sisters, would seek to know and appre- 
ciate and exert the hidden but resistless 
power of a Christian woman ! 

4 ' She can so impress 
With quietness and beauty, and so feed 
With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, 
Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, 
Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all 
The dreary intercourse of daily life, 
Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb 
Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold 
Is full of blessing." 



WOMAN'S INDEBTEDNESS TO 
CHRIST. 

To the gospel of Christ, woman is indebt- 
ed for all that is most estimable and lovely 
in her character, and for all that is most 
desirable and elevated in her social position. 
The dawn of Christianity brought light and 
hope to her : it was the birth-day of her 
social and spiritual emancipation. It alone, 
of all religious systems, has understood and 
appreciated and befriended woman. Pre- 



WOMAN AT THE CROSS. 165 



vious to the Advent, she was and still is, 
throughout the whole Pagan and Mohamme- 
dan world, in a condition but little better than 
that of a slave. She is bought and sold as 
chattel property, and is either degraded to 
the level of a beast of burden, or to be the 
toy of the sensualist. Dreadful indeed is 
the picture of her wrongs, — wrongs that 
well might obliterate her moral and social as 
well as intellectual nature. Nor has infi- 
delity done any thing better for her. It has 
rather sought to drag her from her lofty 
position, by sneering at her virtue, and 
demoralizing her religious faith. "What," 
says an eminent contemporaneous divine, " do 
infidels, who vilify and renounce the gospel, 
care for the influence, purity, or happiness of 
woman ? Not one whit more than they do 
for their own souls, which they will barter at 
any time for a moment's gratification. And 
what do the whole tribe of profligate men 
who hate God and his son Jesus Christ, and 
the Bible, and every thing that is pure and 
heavenly, care for these matters of mighty 
import to the race ? Care ? These are the 



1 66 WOMAN AT THE CROSS. 

last thoughts for which they care. The in- 
fluence of woman in society, her moral purity 
and delicate sensibilities, her refined and 
elevated social enjoyments, are matters for 
which infidels and profligates have little 
concern, but which lie near the hearts of 
Christians." And it is Jesus Christ who has 
made us your friends. It is his. gospel alone 
that has struck off your chains, and lifted you 
from beneath the feet of man to stand hy his 
side, his companion and his equal. It is his 
gospel alone that has repaired the ruins of 
her desolated nature, and restored to her the 
beauty and purity of her violated chastity. 
It is his love that protects and defends her 
within the sacred inclosure of home ; and it 
is in that love alone she must seek and find 
the true remedy for all her wrongs. 

I do not say that Christianity has done all 
that is necessary for woman. It has not. 
It works in this direction, as in every other, 
slowly, but surely. God can afford to take 
his time ■ for he is eternal. But it is not for 
the church that has reared within its bosom 
Mary and Eunice, and Perpetua. and Catha- 



WOMAN AT THE CROSS. 167 

rine Adorna, and Madame Guyon, and Han- 
nah More and Harriet Newell ; it is not 
for the generation among whom Elizabeth 
Browning has sung, and Charlotte Bronte 
spoken, and Harriet Hosmer chiselled, and 
Rosa Bonheur painted, and Mary Lyon 
taught, and Florence Nightingale lived, — 
to despair of woman's achieving, with the aid 
of the gospel, her brightest destiny. She is 
still wronged and insulted by unjust laws and 
heartless flattery ; but do not let her rush 
with unwomanly clamors to the platform for 
redress. Nay, rather let her frown upon 
every effort and movement that seeks to 
draw her from her legitimate sphere and 
work. Let her learn to suffer and wait. 
Let her know that God and good men are 
on her side, and are working for her, and 
that they, together with her own patient en- 
durance of wrong, have and are and will 
continue to do more for her than any amount 
of active and boisterous endeavor on her 
part. My sisters, in all this wide universe, 
you have no such benefactor as Jesus Christ. 

Rev. J. E. Walton. 



WOMAN AT THE CROSS. 



TRUST AND ASPIRATION. 

Father, I own thy voice ; 

I seek thy loving face ; 
The fountain of my sweetest joys 

Is thine abounding grace. 

Saviour, I cling to thee, 

Thou Victor in the strife : 
Thy blood-paid ransom set me free, 

My peace, my hope, my life. 

Father, behold thy child ; 

Guide me, and guard from ill ; 
In dangers thick, through deserts wild, 

Be my Protector still. 

Saviour, gird me with power 

For thee the cross to bear, 
Victorious in temptation's hour, 

Safe from the secret snare. 

Ancient of days, to thee 

By love celestial drawn, 
My soul thy majesty shall see, 

And greet her glory's dawn. 

Rev. Samuel Wolcott, D.D. 



WOMAN AT THE CROSS. 169 

THE HAPPY FEAST AT BETHANY. 

" And they made a supper, and Martha 
served ; but Lazarus was one of them who sat 
at the table with him." This wonderful scene 
took place after the resurrection of Lazarus. 
It was a re-union of the Bethany family and 
their friend Jesus. Lazarus had come back 
from the grave to the sisters, and they were 
glad. Can your imagination help you to a 
conception of the scene ? I suppose they had 
the best they could get from the markets for 
the table, just as you would do if your brother 
had died, and some great physician had gone 
to the vault, and restored him to life, and you 
had made a feast for both brother and physi- 
cian. 

"And Martha served." And didn't she 
serve willingly ? See her looking first at Je- 
sus, and then at her risen brother ; and now 
how willingly she trips off to get another dish ! 
She don't find fault with Mary for not helping 
her now, as she did on a former occasion • but 
methinks, in her gratitude to Jesus for giving 



170 WOMAN AT THE CROSS, 



her back her brother, is willing to do it all. 
And Mary— she troubled herself about neither 
cooking nor eating ; but she took a pound of 
ointment, and anointed Jesus, and she could 
just as willingly have laid her life down at his 
feet. Jesus had loved them all, and raised 
Lazarus from the dead : could she with- 
hold any thing from him ? A host of angels 
were there, too, I doubt not, to witness the 
scene. 

And shall not we make a feast for Jesus ? 
Has he not done something for us ? Did he 
not raise us out of the tomb of sin ? Look we 
not upon some that are dear to us, who were 
dead, but are " alive again " ? Think, too, of 
the final resurrection, when, in literal truth, 
every grave shall be opened, and we all be 
borne away to the land of rest. Should we 
not make a feast for Jesus ? But what shall 
we put on the altar before him ? What will 
please him ? Hear him : " If I were hungry, 
I would not tell thee ; for the world is mine, 
and the fulness thereof. Will I eat the flesh 
of bulls, or the blood of goats ? Offer unto 
God thanksgiving, and pay thy vows unto the 



WOMAN A T THE CROSS. 1 7 1 



Most High." Bring your hearts full of grati- 
tude, and orTer them to God. 

" Say, shall we yield him in costly devotion 
Odors of Eden, and offerings divine, 
Gems from the mountain, and pearls from the ocean, 
Myrrh from the forest, and gold from the mine? 
Vainly we offer each ample oblation, 
Vainly with gifts would his favor secure : 
Richer by far is the heart's adoration, 
Dearer to God are the prayers of the poor." 

Bring your hearts as an offering to Jesus, 
and we'll have a feast of love around the 
cross. " The prayers of the poor in spirit " 
shall ascend as sweet incense to our Lord ; 
and blessings sweet as manna shall descend 
upon our souls. Bring hearts, whole hearts, 
perfect hearts, contrite hearts, to Jesus just 

now. R- V. Lawrence. 



" Those who have lost an infant are never, as it were, without 
an infant child. They are the only persons who in one sense 
retain it always, and they furnish other parents with the same 
idea. The other children grow up to manhood and womanhood, 
and suffer all the changes of mortality. This alone is rendered 
an immortal child." — Leigh Hunt. 



CfjHbjxcroir at % Crass. 



Children can love and appreciate Christ 
with as much spiritual comfort as their older 
friends. " Conversion in childhood," says 
Rev. Mr. Roebuck, "is not only possible, 
but positively more practicable than at any 
subsequent period in life. Childhood is the 
golden opportunity, the favorable spring-time 
in which to sow the seed of a happy eternity. 
Sin is more hateful to childhood's moral 
sensibilities than to manhood's hardened and 
ossified conscience. The person of Christ 
is more attractive than after false ideals of 
manhood have intruded themselves upon the 
mind. Faith is more easily exercised than 
when clouds of scepticism have gathered 

175 



17^ CHILDHOOD AT THE CROSS. 



along the horizon of our maturer life. The 
will is less obdurate than when the world's 
strife has tempered it into obstinacy. The 
affections are more readily disposed to good 
than when the love of evil is more strongly 
developed. The attention is more easily 
secured than when, as men, they have 
entered into the petty toils and strifes of 
daily living. In a word, nature never leads 
us nearer to the kingdom of heaven than 
when we are within the sacred precincts 
of early childhood, and surrounded and 
permeated by home influences." 



COMING TO JESUS. 

I imagine I see a little boy tripping up the 
street of a certain town, singing, — . 

" Hosanna to the son of David ! " 

A poor afflicted woman stands on her 
door-step, and hears the child. 

" What is that you say ? " she asks, as he 
is passing by her house. 



CHILDHOOD AT THE CROSS. 177 

" Oh ! " says he, " haven't you heard about 
Jesus of Nazareth ? He's cured blind Bar- 
timeus, that used to sit at a wayside begging ; 
and he has raised a young man to life that 
was being carried to his grave, and healed 
ten lepers all at once ; and the people that 
have sick relations bring them, and lay them 
at his feet, and he cures them all. And 
those who have no friends to bring them, if 
they can only just touch him, are made per- 
fectly whole." 

" Oh ! " cried the poor woman, " if that's 
true, he can cure my bloody issue that I've 
been tormented with these twelve years. 
When will he be here, my little man ? " 

"Why," says the child, "he'll be here 
directly. He's coming this way. There ! 
don't you hear the noise of the multitude ? 
Look ! here they come. Hosanna ! hosan- 
na to the son of David ! " and away goes the 
little boy to tell his mother that the prophet 
she has taught him to look for is come at last. 

" Well, I'll go," says the poor thing tim- 
idly : " I'll get behind him. Maybe he won't 
pity me ; but that dear little lad said as many 
1?. 



178 CHILDHOOD AT THE CROSS. 



as touched him were made whole. I'll go 
and try, however." 

I imagine I see the poor, weak creature, 
who has spent all her living on physicians 
that only made her worse, drawing her tat- 
tered garments around her, and wriggling 
her way through the crowd. They push her 
aside • but she says, — 

" I'll try again." 

She winds to the right, then to the left, — 
now nearer, and the next minute farther off 
than before. But still she perseveres ; al- 
though she seems to have so little chance of 
getting through the throng, which is thickest 
round the man she wants. Well done, poor 
woman ! try again ! It's all for your life, you 
know. That bloody issue will be your death 
if you don't get it cured ; and a touch of his 
clothes will do it. I imagine I hear one 
rudely ask the fainting creature, " Where are 
you pushing to ? You've got a bloody issue : 
you've no business here." 

" Ah ! " she answers, " I see there a man 
whose like I never saw before. Let me but 
touch his garment, and I shall be as well as 
any of you." 



CHILDHOOD AT THE CROSS. 179 



And now another step or two, and she can 
hear his gentle voice speaking kindly to 
Jairus, as he walks home with him to heal 
his little daughter lying at the point of death. 
The woman stretches out her hand ; but she 
isn't near enough: another step — yes, now 
she touches — it is but the hem of his gar- 
ment, but it is all she needs. 

Glory to Jesus ! her issue of blood is dried, 
and immediately she feels in her body that 
she is healed. Glory to Jesus ! she touched, 
and was made perfectly whole. 

And if there was virtue in his garment, 
isn't there efficacy in his blood 2 May God 
help you, sinner, to come to Christ to-night ! 

Richard Weaver. 



THE BELIEVING HEART. 

The believing heart ! oh, what a deep repose, 
And calm, sweet trust it hath, 'mid all earth's 
woes ! 

Faith upward looks. To care and pain and ill 
It hears a voice divine say, " Peace — be still ! 

God's grace yet flows." 



180 CHILDHOOD AT THE CROSS. 



What though thy riches fly, thy plans are crossed ! 
Oh, say not to thyself that all is lost ! 
The promise stands, — Jehovah will provide; 
Only believe : what canst thou want beside ? 

Anchor, thou tempest-tost. 

What though thy loved ones from thy side de- 
part ! 

They are gone home, saith the believing heart : 
In heavenly mansions, free from grief and pain, 
With joyful welcome, true souls meet again, — 
Meet, never to part. 

And, though thou feel the warning touch of 

death, 

In peace, in trust, in hope, yield up thy breath. 
Look up, look up ! redemption draweth nigh : 
Soon shall the Saviour welcome thee on high, 
God's sure word saith. 

Axon. 



JESUS AND THE CHILDREN. 

I am myself convinced the Lord has been 
acting on this promise during the past week. 
He has declared his purpose was, and is, to 
draw all men to him, and therefore he has 



CHILDHOOD AT THE CROSS. 181 



been doing that during two thousand years. 
No one can say how many he has drawn to 
himself who are now living in glory. That 
is his work still ; and, unless we are greatly 
mistaken, he has brought a number of chil- 
dren to believe and be blessed in him. " I, if 
I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all 
men unto me." Of course that does not ex- 
clude children: children are a part of the 
"all." It is not surprising that he should 
call children to himself as soon as they are 
able to sin ; and that is very young. They 
can understand what it is to have a Saviour 
from sin as soon as they know what sin is, 
and that another can bear their punishment. 

The conversion of sinners in every case is 
the work of the Almighty Spirit. He can 
work in a child's heart as well as in a man's 
heart. " Of his own will begat he us." It 
was his own sovereign act in each case ; and 
he did it in his own way, by bringing the 
truth to bear upon the mind. If Jesus had 
not meant to bless children, he would have 
rejected those that were brought to him. 
He would have said they were too young \ 



182 CHILDHOOD AT THE CROSS. 



but we read that he took the little ones in 
his arms, showing that it was his purpose 
to bless each of them, much, more those 
little ones who walked up to him and asked 
him to bless them. Those children who came 
out of the different villages with their parents 
saw how loving he was. When all these chil- 
dren gathered at Jerusalem, and witnessed 
all his kindness, and sang hosannas on their 
way to the temple, the Pharisees thought 
the children were only imitators, copying 
the others ; and they said to Jesus, " Do jou 
hear what these say?" Jesus answered, 
"It is the fulfilment of the promise, Out 
of the mouths of babes and sucklings thou 
hast perfected praise." 

Many of these children have said, and I 
believe will say to the end of their days, " I 
love Jesus and perhaps those who do not 
know how they were led to Jesus would be 
curious to know how so many say they love 
Jesus and trust in Jesus. The answer is 
contained in the text. They have been 
brought to Jesus because Jesus loves them, 
and has showed his love to them by dying in 
their place. They were drawn by the reality 



CHILDHOOD AT THE CROSS. 183 



of his love. That has been told them again 
and again during every evening of the week. 
They have sung it in their hymns, they have 
heard it in the addresses, they have ex- 
pressed it in their prayers. It is nothing but 
the love of Jesus in dying for them. He has 
been drawing children by the narrative of his 
love, told them by an affectionate servant of 
his who knows how to speak to children, 
whose loving addresses pleased the children 
very much • and so this loving servant has 
drawn their loving hearts to love the Saviour. 
This is how they have been drawn, by hear- 
ing from one who has crossed the ocean that 
he may tell of Jesus. b. w. Noel. 



THE VISION OF CHRIST. 

O Christ ! I long to know thee 

As thou art known above ; 
Long, face to face, to show thee, 

In faultless praise, my love : 
But thou thyself now hidest 

Beyond my feeble sense ; 
Though all my steps thou guidest, 

Thine arm my sure defence. 



CHILDHOOD AT THE CROSS. 



O'erpowering is the splendor 

About the unveiled throne : 
Where bright archangels render 

A service all their own : 
That glory sight confounding, 

Those wonders rich and rare, 
The anthems high resounding, 

This mortal could not bear. 

Yet, Lord, to see thee, pining, 

In thought I oft ascend, 
And, where thy host are shining, 

I, too, before tbee bend : 
As one in rapture dreaming, 

Celestial bliss I feel, 
And, in that moment's seeming, 

Glow with a seraph's zeal. 

When from this dream awaking, 

A weary pilgrim still, 
Sloth from my spirit shaking, 

With fixed, unfaltering will, 
My soul, in courage stronger, 

Holds on her toilsome way, 
Content to watch yet longer, 

Till dawns the wished-for day. 



CHILDHOOD AT THE CROSS. 185 

THE CHILD-ANGEL. 

It was on a dark, rainy afternoon of last 
October, while the winds were stripping the 
trees of their last withered leaves, that a 
Christian man received a letter from one of 
the most eminent physicians in Philadelphia, 
whither his wife had resorted for medical 
treatment, conveying the assurance that a 
disease which might and finally must prove 
fatal had fastened itself on his beloved com- 
panion. This opinion had for some time 
been anticipated by him, but only as a 
possibility ; and now a dark cloud settled 
suddenly on him. He strove to realize the 
Saviour's presence and love, and find a con- 
scious support and sympathy in this ; but he 
could only feel sure that God is good and 
gracious. A covering of cloud was over 
him, while he looked into a dark, dark valley 
before him, through which a loved one was 
soon to pass. The shadows of twilight were 
gathering. His two little children had laid 
aside their childish sports, and were seated 
with him at the tea-table, cheerfully talking 



1 86 CHILDHOOD AT THE CROSS, 

of an absent mother, whose return was daily 
expected, but only, as their father now knew, 
soon again to leave them on that last journey 
from which there is no return. They knew 
not his thoughts and feelings, as he gave 
them their meal, reminded by the vacant 
chair that soon she who had occupied it 
would leave it forever. The meal was over ; 
and he sat in silence and in darkness of 
soul, wondering at what God had brought 
before him, and gazing at the messenger, 
who, in a definite form, was seen drawing 
near his beloved partner. 

Soon, his little daughter, who is not yet 
four years old, climbed upon his knees, 
and, nestling her head on his bosom, told, 
as was her custom, of her little doings 
through the day. Her father heard her 
words, but did not give them the usual 
attention. But 07ie thought occupied his 
mind. Looking to the future, he was striv- 
ing to see light beyond the grave, and his 
silent prayer was, "O God, my Saviour, 
send forth thy light from thy presence, where 
light ever dwells, and where sin and sorrow 



CHILDHOOD AT THE CROSS. 187 

never enter ! O thou who art acquainted 
with grief, give thy servant light on this 
mysterious dispensation ! " Scarcely had 
this prayer left his heavy heart, when his 
little daughter, breaking from her previous 
prattle, said, Cm Papa, must we go through 
death's dark vale to get to heaven?" Now 
he heard her, and answered, " Yes, my dear," 
when she added, " But we will not fear any 
evil, will we ? " 

The fountain of her father's heart was now 
opened, and the cloud of darkness was dis- 
persed. The light which he had been seek- 
ing broke upon him, and made even the dark 
vale radiant with the brightness of heaven. 
He caught up the words of David, in the 
eighth Psalm, — " O Lord, our Lord, how 
excellent in all the earth is thy name ! " 
" Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings 
hast thou ordained strength, that thou might- 
est still the enemy and the avenger." 

The shadows of evening were closing 
over earth. Father and child were silent 
for a time. She saw not his face, and knew 
not to what he was applying her words ; but 



1 88 CHILDHOOD AT THE CROSS. 



she felt the heavings of his bosom, as her 
head rested upon it, and caught the falling 
tears on her upturned face ; and, as if with 
a quick sympathy taught by a heavenly 
Teacher, she again spoke : " But, papa, our 
heavenly Father knows what is best for us 
in every thing, doesn't he, papa ? " 

Sympathizing friend, experienced Christian, 
learned divine ! What could have been said 
more fitting, more instructing, more sympa- 
thizing, more cheering ? 

All narrated is strictly true. How precious 
is our Saviour's love ! How constant -and 
tender and compassionate his care ! 

How wonderful his ways of speaking to 
his servants ! How precious is his truth, and 
how precious, in this instance, his ministering 

Child ! Axon. 



JESUS PASSETH BY. 

Lord, I hear of showers of blessing 
Thou art scattering, full and free, — 

Showers the thirsty land refreshing : 
Let some dropping fall on me, 
Even me. 



CHILDHOOD AT THE CROSS. 



Pass me not, 0 God our Father ! 

Sinful though my heart may be : 
Thou might'st lead me, but the rather 

Let thy mercy light on me, 

Even me. 

Pass me not, O gracious Saviour ! 

Let me live and cling to thee. 
I am longing for thy favor : 

Whilst thou'rt calling, oh, call me, 
Even me. 

Pass me not, O mighty Spirit ! 

Thou canst make the blind to see : 
Witnessing of Jesus' merit, 

Speak some word of power to me, 
Even me. 

Have I long in sin been sleeping, 
Long been slighting, grieving thee I 

Has the world my heart been keeping ? 
Oh, forgive and rescue me, 

Even me. 

Love of God, so pure and changeless ; 

Blood of Christ, so rich and free ; 
Grace of God, so strong and boundless 

Magnify it all to me, 

Even me. 



190 CHILDHOOD AT THE CROSS. 



Pass me not : thy lost one bringing, 
Bind my heart, 0 Lord, to thee : 

Whilst the streams of life are springing, 
Blessing others, oh, bless me ! 

Even me. 

Dublin Hymn-Book. 



AT THE CROSS. 

I had been weeping at the cross, 
When some one seemed to say, 

" Thy heart is very tired, my child ; 
Lean thou on me to-day. 

" My arm is strong ; I can sustain, 

And tenderly will lead : 
Upon my bosom rest thy head ; 

Let me supply thy need. 

" Thy garment has been trailed in dust, 

And it is soiled, I see ; 
My robe is broad, and spotless fair : 

I'll cast it over thee. 

" Thy soul is burdened : from this hour 

Let me the burden bear ; 
Thy bleeding feet may I not bathe ? 

My sandals thou shalt wear. 



CHILDHOOD AT THE CROSS. 

" And better far : thy troubled heart, 
So long thy grief and care, 

I'll sprinkle with my precious blood; 
It shall become all fair." 

As thus he spake, my soulful cry 
Was, " Can this joy be mine ? " 

He clasped me to his heart, and said, 
" All that I have is thine." 



What is heaven ? We read it is an inheritance. Who are fit 
for an inheritance ? Sons. Who makes us sons ? "Behold what 
manner of love tJie Fatherhzxh. bestowed upon us, that we should 
be called the sons of God." A son is fitted for an inheritance. 
The moment the son is born, he is fitted to be an heir. All that 
is wanted is, that he shall grow up, and be capable of possession. 
But he is fit for an inheritance at first. If he were not a son, he 
could not inherit as an heir. Now, as soon as ever we become 
sons, we are meet to inherit. There is in us an adaptation, a 
power and possibility for us, to have an inheritance. This is the 
prerogative of the Father, to adopt us into his family, and to 
"beget us again unto a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus 
Christ from the dead." And do you not see, that, as adoption is 
really the meetness for inheritance, it is the Father who hath 
" made us meet to be partakers of the inheritance of the saints 
in light " ? 




At the cross the believer has victory over 
death. The Christian finds it easy to die 
when his eyes rest on Calvary. " If I had 
strength enough to hold a pen," said William 
Hunter, " I would write how easy and de- 
lightful it is to die." " If this be dying," 
said the niece of Newton of Olney, " it is a 
pleasant thing to die ; " " the very expres- 
sion," adds her uncle, " which another friend 
of mine made use of on her death-bed a few 
years ago." The same words have been so 
often uttered under similar circumstances, 
that we could fill pages with instances which 
are only varied by the name of the speaker. 
" If this be dying," said Lady Glenorchy, " it 
is the easiest thing imaginable." 

195 



196 THE DYING AT THE CROSS. 



THE SHADOW OF DYING. 

" There are many shadows of death. There are calamities, 
bereavements, desolations, which, for the moment, sunder you 
from earth almost the same as if you were absent from the body. 
But, if there are shadows of death, on the other hand the believ- 
er's dissolution is but the shadow of dying — A Morning by the 
Lake of Galilee. 

Whilst in breathless repose thou art lying, 
Thy words still breathe forth living breath, 

To thee but " the shadow of dying," 
On us rests " the shadow of death." 

The barrier changed to a portal, 

The glory on thee through it shined ; 

Thou hast passed from its shadow immortal, 
And left all the shadows behind. 

But on us still the shadow is resting, 
For the shadow is all we can see ; 

Earth with gloomier darkness investing, 
For all the clear light lost with thee. 

In the mind ever fearlessly moving 
To welcome all lights from all sides, 

In the heart which, by force of its loving, 
Swept all ice-blocks away in its tides. 



THE DYING AT THE CROSS. 197 



With the wide-seeing glance of the sages, 
And the glad, simple trust of the child, 

Spirit radiant as e'er through the ages 
Loved to drink at the well undefiled. 

We count it thy joy to be taken, 

Thou countedst it ours to be left, 
Still earth's sleep with the glad news to waken, 

Nor quite of thy presence bereft. 

In one church universal abiding, 
(No narrower home e'en was thine,) 

On one God and Father confiding, 
One Lord, ever human, divine. 

On one mighty arm still relying, 

Embreathed by one Spirit's life-breath, 

In the light of Him living whose dying 
Has made but a shadow of death. 

Author of Schonberg-Cotta Family. 



THE HAPPINESS OF A GLORIFIED 
SPIRIT. 

Would you know where I am ? I am at 
home in my Father's house, in the mansion 
prepared for me there. I am where I would 



198 THE DYING AT THE CROSS. 

9 

be, where I have long and often desired to 
be \ no longer on a stormy sea, but in a safe 
and quiet harbor. My working time is clone, 
I am resting ; my sowing time is done, I am 
reaping \ my joy is as the joy of harvest. 
Would you know how it is with me ? I am 
made perfect in holiness ; grace is swallowed 
up in glory ; the top-stone of the building is 
brought forth. Would you know what I am 
doing ? I see God • I see him as he is, not 
as through a glass darkly, but face to face : 
and the sight is transforming ; it makes me 
like him. I am in the sweet employment of 
my blessed Redeemer, my head and husband, 
whom my soul loved, and for whose sake I 
was willing to part with all. I am here bath- 
ing myself at the spring-head of heavenly 
pleasures and joys unutterable ; and, there- 
fore, weep not for me. I am here keeping a 
perpetual sabbath; what that is, judge by 
your short sabbath. I am here singing 
hallelujahs incessantly to Him who sits upon 
the throne, and rest not day or night from 
praising him. Would you know what com- 
pany I have ? Blessed company, better than 



THE DYING AT THE CROSS. 199 



the best on earth : here are holy angels, and 
the spirits of just men made perfect. I am 
set clown with Abraham and Isaac and 
Jacob in the kingdom of God, with blessed 
Paul and Peter and James and John, and all 
the saints ; and here I meet with many of my 
old acquaintance that I fasted and prayed 
with, who got before me hither. And, lastly, 
would you consider how long this is to con- 
tinue? It is a garland that never withers, a 
crown of glory that fades not away. After 
millions of millions of ages, it will be as 
fresh as it is now ; and, therefore, weep not 

for me. Matthew Henry. 



THERE ARE NO TEARS IN HEAVEN. 

I met a child : his feet were bare, 

His weak frame shivered with the cold, 
His youthful brow was knit by care, 
His flushing eyes his sorrow told. 

Said I, " Poor boy, why weepest thou ? " 
" My parents both are dead," he said, 
" I have not where to lay my head ; 
Oh, I am lone and friendless now ! " 



2 co THE DYING AT THE CROSS. 



Not friendless, child : a Friend on high 
For you his precious blood has given. 

Cheer up, and bid each tear be dry: 
" There are no tears in heaven." 

I saw a man in life's gay noon 

Stand weeping o'er his young bride's bier : 
" And must we part," he cried, " so soon ? n 
As down his cheek there rolled a tear. 

u Heart-stricken one," said I, 44 weep not ! ' 
" Weep not ! " in accents wild he cried ; 
u But yesterday my loved one died ; 
And shall she be so soon forgot? " 
Forgotten ! no ; still let her love 

Sustain thy heart, with anguish riven : 
Strive thou to meet thy bride above, 
And dry your tears in heaven. 

I saw a gentle mother weep, 

As to her throbbing heart she pressed 
An infant, seemingly asleep 

On its kind mother's sheltering breast. 
" Fair one," said I, " pray weep no more." 
Sobbed she, " The idol of my hope 
I am new called to render up ; 
My babe has reached death's gloomy shore." 



THE DYING AT THE CROSS. 201 

Young mother, yield no more to grief, 
Nor be by passion's tempest driven ; 

But find in these sweet words relief, — 
" There are no tears in heaven." 

Poor traveller o'er life's troubled wave, 

Cast down by grief, o'erwhelmed by care, 
There is an arm above can save ; 
Then yield not thou to fell despair. 
Look upward, mourners, look above ; 
What though the thunders echo loud ? 
The sunshine 's bright behind the cloud ; 
Then trust in thy Redeemer's love. 
Where'er thy lot in life be cast, 

Whate'er of toil and woe be given, 
Be firm : remember, to the last, 
" There are no tears in heaven." 



PRESENCE OF CHRIST. 

A Christian should make his Saviour a 
perpetual companion, — everywhere and on 
every day of the week. Christ offers to walk 
with him in every day's journey <# life. What 
companionship so enlivening and^urifying 
as his ? who else can make our hearts so 



202 THE DYING AT THE CROSS. 



burn within us by the way ? Christ's pres- 
ence with believers is one of the best 
preventives from sin, one of the best stimu- 
lators to duty. Jesus is " made unto us 
sanctification," as well as redemption. That 
is, his is a spirit of holiness. And, when we 
live in hourly communion with Jesus, it has 
a tendency to make us holy. The sense of 
Christ's immediate presence is a perpetual 
check upon our lusts, a perpetual spur to 
our self-indolence. Are we provoked to 
cutting words or irritating retorts ? One 
look from the gentle, all-forgiving Jesus 
should be enough to seal the lip, and to 
smooth the ruffled brow. Are we ever 
tempted to keen bargains and over-reaching 
in business? Selfishness says, "All is fair: 
others do it ; it is the custom of our trade." 
But what will the pure and holy Jesus say ? 
How will account-books look to him when 
he " audits " them ? And so on, all through 
the calendar of duties and the circle of daily 
temptations. With our Saviour beside me, 
how will I dare to play the coward, or the 
cheat, or the trifler, or the sensualist, or the 
trickster ? 



THE DYING AT THE CROSS. 203 

Nowhere will Christ's presence be more 
cheering and sustaining than in the weariness 
of a sick-room, or under the silent shadows 
of a great bereavement. " Christ comes to 
me in the watches of the night," said the 
bed-ridden saint, Halyburton. " He draws 
aside the curtains and says, 6 It is I j be of 
good cheer ; be not afraid.' Here I lie, 
pained with pain ; without strength, and yet 
strong." And, when the last farewells have 
been spoken through the sobs of the dying 
hour, this never-failing Friend will sweetly 
whisper, " Fear not, I am with thee. Where 
I am, ye shall be also. Having loved my 
own, I will love them unto the end." 

CUYLER. 



GOING HOME. 

Where are you going so fast, old man ? 
Where are you going so fast ? 
There's a valley to cross, and a river to ford, 
There's a clasp of the hand, and a parting word, 
And a tremulous sigh for the past, old man, — 
The beautiful vanished past. 



204 THE DYING AT THE CROSS. 



The road has been rugged and rough, old man, 
To your feet it's rugged and rough ; 
But you see a dear being with gentle eyes 
Has shared in your labor and sacrifice ; 

Ah ! that has been sunshine enough, old 
man, — 

For you and me, sunshine enough. 

How long since you passed o'er the hill, old 
man, 

Of life, — o'er the top of the hill ? 
Were there beautiful valleys on t'other side ? 
Were there flowers and trees with their branches 
wide 

To shut out the heat of the sun, old man, — 
The heat of the fervid sun ? 

And how did you cross the waves, old man, 
Of sorrow, — the fearful waves ? 
Did you lay your dear treasures by, one by one, 
With an aching heart, and " God's will be done," 
Under the wayside dust, old man, 

In the graves 'neath the wayside dust ? 

There is sorrow and labor for all, old man ; 
Alas ! there is sorrow for all : 
And you, peradventure, have had your share ; 



THE DYING AT THE CROSS. 205 



For eighty long winters have whitened your hair, 
And they've whitened your heart as well, old 
man, — 

Thank God, your heart as well. 

You're now at the foot of the hill, old man, 
At last at the foot of the hill ! 
The sun has gone down in a golden glow ; 
And the heavenly city lies just below : 
Go in through the pearly gate, old man, — 
The beautiful pearly gate. 

Anon. 

— — 

IT IS TOLD ME I MUST DIE. 

" Richard Langhorne, a lawyer, was unjustly condemned and 
put to death as a traitor in the reign of Charles II. Just before 
his execution, he wrote the following exquisite and remarkable 
poem. In the language of the Quarterly Review, ' A poem it 
must be called, though it is not in verse. Perhaps there is not 
in this, or any other language, a poem which appears to have 
flowed so entirely from the heart.' " 

It is told me I must die : 

Oh, happy news ! 
Be glad, O my soul ! 

And rejoice in Jesus the Saviour ! 
If he intended thy perdition, 
Would he have laid down his life for thee ? 



2o6 THE DYING AT THE CROSS. 



Would he have called thee with so much love, 
And illuminated thee with the light of the spirit ? 
Would he have given thee his cross, 
And given thee shoulders to bear it with patience ? 

It is told me I must die : 

Oh, happy news ! 
Come on, my dearest soul. 
Behold, thy Jesus calls thee. 
He prayed for thee upon his cross ; 
There he extended his arms to receive thee ; 
There he bowed down his head to kiss thee ; 
There he opened his heart to give thee entrance ; 
There he gave up his life to purchase life for thee. 

It is told me I must die; 
Oh, what happiness ! 

I am going 
To the place of my rest, 
To the land of the living, 
To the haven of security; 
To the kingdom of peace, 
To the palace of my God, 
To sit at the table of my king, 
To feed on the bread of angels, 
To see what no eye hath seen, 
To hear what no ear hath heard, 
To enjoy what the heart of man cannot compre- 
hend. 



THE DYING AT THE CROSS, 207 



O my Father ! 
O thou best of all fathers ! 
Have pity on the most wretched of all thy chil- 
dren ! 

I was lost, but by thy mercy found ; 
I was dead, but by thy grace am now raised 
again ; 

I was gone astray after vanity, 

But I am now ready to appear before thee. 

O my Father ! 
Come now, in mercy, and receive thy child ! 
Give him thy kiss of peace, 
Remit unto him all his sins, 
Clothe him with thy nuptial robe, 
Permit him to have a place at thy feast, 
And forgive all those who are guilty of his death. 



THE DAY BREAKETH. 

Those who trust in Christ shall not be 
disappointed. All through the Bible, those 
who trust are called upon to rejoice. Said 
the pious Janeway, " My heart is full ; it is 
brim-full ; I can hold no more. I know 
what that means, — ' the peace of God, 



208 THE DYING AT THE CROSS. 

which passeth all understanding.' I cannot 
express what glorious discoveries God hath 
made to me. How lovely is the sight of 
Jesus, when one is dying ! " 

If one can die with a heart full, he might 
live so also. " Almost well, and nearly at 
home" said the dying Baxter, when asked 
how he was by a friend. A martyr, when 
approaching the stake, being questioned as 
to how he felt, answered, " Never better ; for 
now I know that I am almost at home." 
Then, looking over the meadows between 
him and the place where he was to be im- 
mediately burnt, he said, " Only two more 
stiles to get over, and I am at my Father's 
house." " Dying," said the Rev. S. Medley, 
" is sweet work, sweet work, — home, home ! " 
Another on his death-bed said, "I am going 
home as fast as I can ; and I bless God that 
I have a good home to go to." 

Yes j nearer home should be the feeling 
of God's people, as day succeeds day. Said 
one, "All things are mine. God sustains me 
through wearisome days, and tedious, painful 
nights. Simple faith in his word keeps my 



THE DYING AT THE CROSS. 209 



mind in peace, but he generously adds strong 
consolation. ' Death has no sting." 

Another said, " I am ready to die, through 
the grace of my Lord Jesus ; and I look 
forward to the full enjoyment of the society 
of holy men and angels, and the full vision 
of God forevermore." 

And the holy Polycarp, as he went to the 
stake, exclaimed, " I bless thee, O Lord ! 
that thou hast thought me worthy to have part 
in the number of thy martyrs, in the cup of 
thy Christ. For this and for all things, I 
praise thee, I bless thee, I glorify thee." 

And one of the Continental reformers thus 
expressed himself: "Rejoice with me; I am 
going to a place of everlasting joy. In a 
short time, I shall be with the Lord Jesus." 

To all these was given a faith that went 
within the veil, by which they were enabled 
to look death in the face joyfully, to rejoice 
with joy unspeakable, and full of glory. We 
need desire nothing higher or better than in 
this world to know Christ, and to trust in 
him. " He that believeth on him shall not 

be Confounded." Southern Churchman. 



2IO THE DYING AT THE CROSS. 



"NOT NOW." 

Not now, my child ; a little more rough tossing, 
A little longer on the billows' foam, 

A few more journeyings in the desert-darkness, 
And then the sunshine of thy Father's home. 

Not now, — for I have wanderers in the distance, 
And thou must call them in with patient love ; 
Not now, — for I have sheep upon the moun- 
tains, 

And thou must follow them where'er they 
rove. 

Not now, — for I have loved ones sad and weary: 
Wilt thou not cheer them with a kindly smile ? 

Sick ones, who need thee in their lonely sorrow : 
Wilt thou not tend them yet a little while ? 

Not now, — for wounded hearts are sorely bleed- 
ing, 

And thou must teach those widowed hearts to 
sing; 

Not now, — for orphans' tears are thickly falling, 
They must be gathered 'neath some shelter- 
ing wing. 



THE DYING AT THE CROSS. 



211 



Not now, — for many a hungry one is pining, 
Thy willing hand must be outstretched and 
free ; 

Thy Father hears the mighty cry of anguish, 
And gives his answering messages to thee. 

Not now, — for dungeon walls look stern and 
gloomy, 

And prisoners' sighs sound strangely on the 
breeze, 

" Man's prisoners, but thy Saviour's noble free- 
men : 

Hast thou no ministry of love for these ? 

Not now, — for hell's eternal gulf is yawning, 
And souls are perishing in hopeless sin ; 

Jerusalem's bright gates are standing open : 
Go to the banished ones, and fetch them in. 

Go with the name of Jesus to the dying, 

And speak that name in all its living power : 
Why should thy fainting heart grow chill and 
weary ? 

Canst thou not watch with me one little hour ? 

One little hour ! and then the glorious crowning, 
The golden harp-strings, and the victor's palm ! 

One little hour ! and then the Hallelujah ! 
Eternity's long, deep thanksgiving psalm ! 



212 THE DYING AT THE CROSS, 



THE CROSS AND HEAVEN. 

Let us even pass beyond our sphere of 
being ; let us compare the angel who never 
fell with the man who knows himself restored. 
And why should we not hold, that not among 
the cherubim, not among the seraphim, are 
there such incentives to obeying and pleasing 
God as among redeemed creatures, — among 
the objects of the love "that passeth knowl- 
edge " ? Very glorious indeed must be the 
condition of angelic beings ; and, as they 
move in their brightness in the continual 
presence of God, we may well feel that they 
must burn with love and thankfulness, and 
reckon it their happiness, yea, their existence, 
to devote every energy to the doing God's 
will. But there has never been to angels 
that attestation of divine love which there 
has been to men. The divine love has 
indeed been beautifully and richly displayed \ 
it decked them with their glories, and con- 
tinues to them their blessedness : but there 
has been no humiliation of divinity on their 



THE DYING AT THE CROSS. 213 



behalf; no assumption of their nature into 
oneness with the Infinite ; no demonstration 
of their being so clear to their Maker, that 
nothing was too costly to be done for their 
safety. All this was reserved for men. It 
is the human nature which has been made 
one with the divine \ and on behalf of men, 
and men alone, has there been the exhibition 
of a love outrunning all thought, — a love 
which could not merely plant a paradise, but 
brave a tomb ; a love which, not content 
with doing every thing for the happiness of 
its objects while innocent, could submit to 
ignominy, to anguish, to death, for their 
deliverance when polluted. And the greater 
display of love has a direct tendency to call 
forth a greater attachment, so that a re- 
deemed sinner will feel such love in the 
Saviour as no unfallen angel can. 

Oh ! we are persuaded of the thorough 
possibility, that, in many a human breast, 
there may be a deeper and more intense 
feeling of love to God's Son than in many of 
the lofty creatures who never transgressed. 
We believe of many a poor and unknown 



214 



THE DYING AT THE CROSS. 



individual, unreservedly confiding in the 
suretyship of the Mediator, that he has a 
consciousness of undeserved benefits be- 
stowed, and a desire to devote himself in 
return to the service of his Benefactor, which 
could not be surpassed if you were allowed 
to search those ranks of intelligence which 
kept their first estate, and never put to the 
proof the compassion of their Maker. And 
because there is thus a direct tendency, in 
the scheme of our redemption, to the pro- 
ducing extraordinary love and devotedness, 
would we argue that those who live under 
the covenant of grace have vastly stronger 
motives than others, who lived under the 
covenant of works, to set themselves to the 
''perfecting holiness in the fear of the Lord." 
You may speak of the energy of the princi- 
ple of self-interest, and may contend that 
nothing would so urge a man to the striving 
against sin as the consciousness that he was 
left to his own efforts for securing immor- 
tality ; but we would speak of the energy 
of the principle of love, and contend, that, 



THE DYING AT THE CROSS. 215 



constituted as we are, there can be nothing 
equal to an ardent affection towards God in 
producing unqualified obedience to his will. 

Rev. H. Melville. 



MY ALL IN ALL ! 

All in all to me, 
Lamb of Calvary ! 
Since thy blood alone 
Can for sin atone, 
Wash my guilt away, 
Give the heart to pray, 
Fit my soul to see 
Home and heaven in thee ! 

All in all to me, 
Lamb of Calvary ! 
All I have is thine ; 
Every joy of mine, 
Every loving thought, 
Every good deed wrought, 
Every hope for me, 
Comes alone from thee ! 



THE DYING AT THE CROSS. 

All in all in me, 
Lamb of Calvary ! 
For thy gift of grace 
Making sure the race 
To the better land, 
Linking hand to hand : 
Pilgrims resting there 
From a life of care ! 

All in all to me, 
Lamb of Calvary ! 
For the ills of life, 
Days of bitter strife 
With the hosts of sin, 
Days of discipline, 
Hand in hand with thee, 
Are a gain to me ! 

All in all to me, 
Lamb of Calvary ! 
All in all in fear, 
All in all in cheer, 
All in all in love, 
All in all above, 
Where I fain would be, 
Lost to self in thee ! 

Anon. 



THE DYING AT THE CROSS. 217 



MY KNOWLEDGE. 

Though men confront the living Goa 
With wisdom than his word more wise, 

And leaving paths apostles trod, 
Their own devise, — 
I would myself forsake, and flee, 

0 Christ, the living Way, to thee ! 

I know not what the schools may teach, 
Nor yet how far from truth depart ; 

One lesson is within my reach, — 
The Truth thou art ; 
And, learning this, I learn each day 
To cast all other love away. 

I cannot solve mysterious things, 

That fill the schoolmen's thoughts with strife ; 
But oh, what peace this knowledge brings, — 
Thou art the Life ! 

Hid in thy everlasting deeps, 

The silent God his secret keeps. 

The Way, the Truth, the Life, thou art ! 

This, this I know ; to this I cleave ; 
The sweet, new language of my heart, — 
" Lord, I believe.'' 

1 have no doubt to bring to thee ; 
My doubt has fled, my faith is free ! 



218 THE DYING AT THE CROSS. 



DEATH CONQUERED. 

Death, to the unregenerate, must be a 
source of awful alarm. But that the awful- 
ness of death may be removed, we are per- 
fectly sure. Abundant instances are at hand 
to prove that the sting of death has often 
been plucked out, and the death-bed made 
as peaceful as an evening sleep. What was 
it that induced Edward Dearing to say, " If 
it were put to my choice whether I should 
die or live, I would a thousand times rather 
choose death than life " ? Said Robert Bolton, 
" When shall I be dissolved ? When shall I 
be with Christ ? " " See how calm a Chris- 
tian can die," were among the last words of 
Addison. What was it that gave to Payson 
those thrilling foretastes of future blessed- 
ness, — brought him to the borders of heaven, 
and gave him an insight to its joys ? What 
is it that bears up the Christian in every age 
and in every clime ? What magic power is 
it that can thus triumph over the infirmities 
of our nature, and beat down death, even at 
the mouth of the sepulchre ? 



THE DYING AT THE CROSS. 219 



I answer : a preparation to meet death. This 
consists, first, in a vital union to Christ. The 
sinner is at enmity with God, — in a state 
of unreconciliation and disobedience. There 
is not one principle or emotion of his soul 
which would lead him to serve or obey God. 
Now, out of Christ there is no reconciliation. 
The Father stands robed in the violated law, 
inapproachable in his holy abhorrence of sin. 
But, when the sinner is joined to Christ, there 
is no longer a fear "of death. All that is 
conquered, swallowed up in a sea of loving 
confidence in Jesus, the conqueror of death. 

A second element in preparation for death 
is an assurance of hope. Many Christians, 
who in reality have a part in religion, 
and are truly the children of God, are like 
the impenitent, " all their lifetime subject to 
bondage." Their natural dispositions, their 
habits of thinking, their peculiar tempera- 
ments, or something else connected with the 
world without or the heart within, keeps 
them " bowed like a bulrush." They take 
the hand of Christ, and go forth, yet doubt- 
ing his ability or willingness to lead them ; 



220 THE DYING AT THE CROSS. 

and when the Jordan, rolling furiously, breaks 
upon their ears, and they remember that this 
is death, they take the hand away from Christ, 
and cling to earth. The remedy for this is a 
clear hope, — a calm assurance that we have 
an interest in the death of Christ, — that 
God is our portion, heaven our home. This 
is attainable. It is within the reach of all. 
Strive for it, diligently seek it, is enjoined 
upon us • and if we would die peacefully and 
triumphantly, we must have an evidence clear, 
a hope strong, a prospect bright. 

The third element in a preparation for 
death is a holy life. " Teach me how to live," 
says one, " and I will teach you how to die." 
It is impossible for a Christian to view the 
approach of death with calmness if he con- 
tinues buried up in the perplexities of the 
world. Christ, faith, and holiness are the 
mystic words which dissolve the shades of 
death. Christ the efficient, procuring cause, 
faith the instrument, holiness the result. If 
Christ be not formed within, the hope of 
glory ; if faith does not point backward to 
the cross, and forward to the crown ; if obe- 



THE DYING AT THE CROSS. 221 



dience does not work " to will and to do " 
within us, — death still has dominion over us. 
These three elements, then, enter into a prep- 
aration for death : A vital union to Christ, 
a full assurance of hope, a holy life. Pos- 
sess these, and death is vanquished and the 
Christian is victor. He dies in triumph. 

" His fight is fought, his f lith has reached the end ; 
Firm to the heaven his glance, his heart ascends. 
There with the Judge he sees his crown remain ; 
And if to live be Christ, to die is gain." 



"MANY THINGS ARE GROWING 
CLEAR!" — Schiller. 

Come ! the summer night is calling, 
Through the elm-tree shadows falling, 
And the silver moonbeams gleaming 

On the snowy window-screen. 
These but hints, I murmur lowly ; 
And I raise the curtain slowly, 
Till a flood of splendor, streaming, 

Renders clear the enchanted scene. 



2 THE DYING AT THE CROSS. 



Soul ! all Nature calleth to thee, 

From the bounds of earth would woo thee 

Morn, with fragrant breezes blowing 

Fresh from the celestial hills ; 
Eve in purple robes of glory 
Sweetly tells her mystic story, 
Such diviner state foreshowing, 

That the soul with rapture thrills. 

Take, oh, take these sweet suggestions ! 
Ask no unbelieving questions. 
Wafting thee to fields Elysian, 

Death shall surely raise the screen. 
With celestial euphrasy 
He shall touch the inner eye, 
Till thou chant, with raptured vision, 

Many things are clearly seen ! 

Thus said Schiller, in his gladness, 
While each bowed the head in sadness 
Round his dying couch at even. 

Closed his eyes on scenes once dear, — 
On the flood of crimson glory 
Bathing rock and castle hoary ; 
Yet, while earthly ties were riven, 

Many things were growing clear. 



THE DYING AT THE CROSS. 223 



Sweeter than the carols ringing, 
Whilst the lark her flight is winging 
Are these words of Schiller, ever 

Singing, singing through the soul. 
Prelude of diviner pleasures, 
Where no more in mournful measures 
Sing the souls who sorrow never, 

Who have safely reached the goal. 

What though chilling mists enshroud us, 
When these vapors that becloud us, 
Gazed upon from heights celestial 

Golden " mirrors " shall appear ! 
Courage, then, nor wish to alter 
One of God's decrees, nor falter 
Through the fear of ills terrestial : 

Many things are growing clear ! 

A. L. S. 



THE BLESSED STATE. 

The day is coming, and all the wings of 
time are bringing it nearer, when we shall be 
emancipated from the body of this death. 
We are not forever to be sickly, sinful, and 
sorrowing. We shall soon be set free from 



224 THE DYING AT THE CROSS. 



every thing that encumbers us. If Christ 
come not in our lifetime to take us to himself, 
we shall go to him to dwell with him where he 
is. And what are the delights of being in 
heaven ? To be with Christ ; the spouse 
forever, with the bridegroom ; the child for- 
ever in his Father's bosom ! What must it 
be to dwell above, — forever pure, forever 
beyond the danger of temptation, safe and 
blessed, shielded from all fear, enriched 
with all blessedness ! Christian, you shall 
soon be like Jesus as well as with him. You 
shall be crowned as he is, and blessed as he 
is. Oh, how satisfied shall you be when you 
wake up in his likeness ! I could not go far- 
ther ) for though I were to talk of the harps 
of gold, of the streets that shine with un- 
earthly light, of gates of pearl, of the never- 
ending song, and of the gentle-flowing river 
of the water of life amidst the trees, that 
yield their twelve manner of fruits, yet all 
would be less than what I have said already. 
You shall be with Christ, and you shall be 
like him. c. h. Spurgeon. 



'416 [ 



